
Class 



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SSBTOEBB 



OF 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 



SKETCHES 

OF 

W!E8V3£3fiH AfflVfflS'ff WSBSs 

CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT 

OF THE 

MOST INTERESTING INCIDENTS 

CONNECTED WITH THE 

SETTLEMENT OF THE WEST, 
from 1755 to 1794: 

TOGETHER WITH 

AN APPENDIX. 



BY JOHX A. M'CI47NG. 

IHiflalieLtriife. 

GRIGG & ELLIOT, NO. 9 NORTH FOURTH STREET. 



1832. 



Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year eigh- 
teen hundred and thirty-two, by Lewis Collins, proprietor, 
m the Clerk's office of the District Court of Kentucky. 



L. Collins, Printer t Maysvitte. Ky, 



T* 



PREFACE 



In these "latter days," when a rage for book making per- 
vades all ages, sexes and conditions, it is scarcely necessary 
to offer the usual hacknied apology, for what is modestly called 
<a trespass upon the patience of the public P Should the book 
prove entertaining, and in some degree useful, no apology 
will be necessary — if otherwise, none will be received. In- 
stead, therefore, of spinning a dozen or more sentences, in 
the usual deprecating tone, or (which is as frequently done) 
throwing down the gauntlet at the whole tribe of critics,! 
shall content myself with a few remarks, upon the degree of 
credit which is to be attached to the following pages. Sev- 
eral years ago, when the author was younger and more con- 
fident, than at present, he was seduced into the perpetration 
of a book which was intended for a novel. It never attract- 
ed much attention, and has long since been forgotten, ex- 
cept by the immediate acquaintances of the author. Upon 
the appearance of the present work, to which the title and 
other circumstances unconnected with the merit of the exe- 
cution, will probably give a more extensive circulation , the 
recollection of "Camden," will probably be revived with 
many readers in the West, and give rise to a suspicion that 



Vlll frRKFACE. 

the present work is as truly an offspring of the imagination 
as the former. A simple denial of the charge would, prob- 
ably, gain but little credit — 1 wish, therefore, to refer dis- 
tinctly to the sources from which the materials for the pre- 
sent work have been derived, in order to give every one 
who chooses, an opportunity of satisfying himself as to its 
authenticity. For the correctness with which the adven- 
tures of Boon, Smith and Johnston are detailed, I refer 
the reader to the printed narratives of each of those gentle- 
men, which are to be found upon the shelves of almost ev- 
ery Bookseller in the West. In the life of Boon, there are 
many particulars relating to the seige of Bryant's station 
and the battle of the Blue Licks, which are not to be found 
in Boon's narrative. For some of these, I am indebted to 
Mr, Marshall; but most of them have been taken from a 
series of "Notes" which appeared several years ago in the 
Kentucky Gazette, and which were carefully taken down 
from the verbal communications of individuals still living, 
who were actively engaged in those scenes. For the stri- 
king incidents attending the expedition of Crawford, I am 
indebted to the printed narratives of Knight and S lover, 
which were published immediately after their return to Vir- 
ginia, when the affair was fresh in the recollection of hun- 
dreds, and any misstatement would instantly have been cor- 
rected. Kenton's adventures are taken from a manuscript 
account dictated by the venerable pioneer himself, and nov 
in the possession of Mr. John D. Taylor of Washington, 
Ky. from whom at some future day, we may expect a full 
detail of his whole life, of which I have only given a rapid 
and imperfect sketch. The adventures of Johonnet, are 



PREFACE. IX 

taken from a printed account by himself, which first ap- 
peared in 1791, immediately after the defeat of St. Clair, 
and those of Kennan, from his own account, which the au- 
thor, in common with many others, has heard repeatedly 
from his own lips. For the rest, I refer the reader general* 
ly, to Metcalfs's collection, Mr. — — "Border Wars," and 
the "Notes on Kentucky" already mentioned. 

A small portion, and comparatively but a small portion of 
the minor details, have been gathered from personal conver- 
sation with the individuals concerned, Had I chosen to have 
given admission to mere rumors, related by persons who had 
received them from others,! might have given a host of an- 
ecdotes, partaking strongly of the marvellous, and some of 
them really worthy of being inserted, could I have been sat- 
isfied of their truth! But 1 have chosen to confine myself 
to those only which were given upon unquestionable author- 
ity, and can conscientiously affirm, that I have admitted no- 
thing which I my self at the time, did not believe to be true. 
At the same time, it must be confessed, that the distressing 
hurry under which the latter part of the book (particularly 
St. Clair's expedition,) was written, did not permit me to refer; 
as particu larly to good authority, as could have been wished,, 
and I hav e consequently committed a few errors (chiefly un- 
important) in that part of the work, which were not observ- 
ed until it was too late for correction. 

They will undoubtedly be pointed out by some good na- 
tured critic, but as they relate chiefly to the force of the In- 
dian army, which in many publications of the day was much 
exaggerated,, they will probably not materially affect the 
general character of the work.. If there are any other er- 



X PREFACE. 

rors, I am not aware of their existence. I have to regret 
that the rapidity with which it was necessarily composed, 
did not afford an opportunity of becoming acquainted with 
many interesting incidents which occurred upon the West* 
ern portion of Virginia during the Revolutionary war, 
which were published several years since under the title of 
"Border Wars." When I saw the book, 1 had already writ- 
ten more than three fourths of the work, and as the sheets 
were printedas fast as they were composed, it was impossible 
to insert them in their proper places. Such of them as bore 
a relation to parts of my own work, were subjoined in the ap 
pendix, the rest were necessarily omitted. I can only refer 
the curious reader to the book itself, from which I can pro- 
mise him much entertainment. 



CONTENTS. 



Adventures of Col. James Smith, ... 


Page. 
14 


Daniel Boone, - . - - - 


48 


Gen. Simon Kenton, ... 


93 


Gen. Benjamin Logan, - -.'.-• 


126 


Col. William Crawford, .... 


137 


John Slover, .... 


155 


Capt. Robert Benham, ... 


169 


Alexander McConnel, 


173 


Robert & Samuel McAfee, ... 


176 


Bryant & Hogan, - - - 


178 


McKinley, .... 


181 


David Morgan, - 


183 


Adam Poe, .... 


186 


Mrs. Woods, 


193 


Davis, Caffree & McClure, 


193 


Captain James Ward, ... 


197 


Francis Downing, ... 


199 


The Widow Scaggs, 


202 


Incidents attending the destruction of a young white 
man from a party of Indians, 


206 


Adventures of Mr. John Merril, 


210 


Ward, Calvin & Kenton, 


212 


Ward, Baker & Kenton, - - - 


218 


May, Johnston, Flinn & Skyles, 


221 


Captain William Hubbell, - - - 


260 


War in the North West, - - - 


269 



Jttfh 



xu 



Harme^s expedition, 
Adventures of Jackson Johonnet, 
Expedition of Gen. Arthur St. Clair, 
Adventures of William Kennan 
Expedition of Wayne, 
Mission of Miller, 
Battle of the "Fallen Timber," 
Adventure of the two young Johnson's, 
Appendix. 



270 
273 

282 
290 
299 
303 
305 
309 
313 



SKETCHES 

OP 

WESTERN ADVENTURE. 



CHAPTER L 

The English settlements in North America, until late in 
the 18th century, were confined to the country lying East of 
the Allegheny mountains. Even the most adventurous tra- 
ders from Virginia and Pennsylvania, rarely penetrated be- 
yond the head waters of the Ohio river, and the spot where 
Pittsburgh now stands was, for a long time, an extreme fron- 
tier point, where the white fur traders and the Western In- 
dians were accustomed to meet and exchange their commo- 
dities. All beyond was an unexplored wilderness, which 
was known only as occupying certain degrees of latitude and 
longitude upon the map. Shortly before the old French 
war of 1755, this spot was occupied by the French, and a 
fort erected, which, in honor of their commander, was call- 
ed Du Quesne. The possession of this fortress was keenly 
debated during the earlier years of the war, and was soon 
rendered memorable by the disastrous expedition of Brae 
and Grant. Omitting a regular detail of these events, which 
have been often related, we shall commence our desultory 
history with a detaii of the adventures of Col . James Smith. 
who subsequently removed to Kentucky, and for many years 
was a resident of Bourbon county. He was the first anglo- 
American who penetrated into the interior of the Western 
country — at least the first who has given us an account of 
his adventures, and in a succession of sketches, like the pre- 
sent, designed to commemorate individual rather than na- 

2 



14 SKETCHES Or 

tional exertions, he is justly entitled to the distinction which 
we give him. If we mistake not, his adventures will be 
found particularly interesting, as affording more ample spe- 
cimens of savage manners and character, than almost aay 
other account now in existence. 

In the spring of the year 1755, James Smith, then a youth 
of eighteen, accompanied a party of 300 men from the fron- 
tiers of Pennsylvania, who advanced in front of Braddock's 
army, for the purpose of opening a road over the mountain. 
When within a few miles of the Bedford Springs, he was 
sent back to the rear, to hasten the progress of some wagons 
loaded with provisions and stores for the use of the road cut- 
ters. Having delivered his orders, he was returning, in 
company with another young man, when they were sudden- 
ly fired upon by a party of three Indians, from a cedar thick- 
et, which skirted the road. Smith's companion was killed 
on the spot; and although he himself was unhurt, yet his 
horse was so much frightened by the flash and report of the 
guns, as to become totally unmanageble, and after a few 
plunges, threw him with violence to the ground. Before he 
Gould recover his feet, the Indians sprung upon him, and, 
overpowering his resistance, secured him as a prisoner. 
One of them demanded, in broken English, whether "more 
white men were coming up ;" and upon his answering in the 
negative, he was seized by each arm, and compelled to run 
with great rapidity over the mountain until night, when the 
small party encamped and cooked their supper. An equal 
share of their scanty stock of provisions was given to the 
prisoner, and in other respects, although strictly guarded, he 
was treated with great kindness. On the evening of the 
next day, after a rapid walk of fifty miles, through cedar 
thickets, and over very rocky ground, they reached the Wes- 
tern side of the Laurel mountain, and beheld, at a little dis- 
tance, the smoke of an Indian encampment. His captors 



WESTERN ADVEOTUBE. 15 

now fired their guns, and raised the scalp halloo! This is 
a long yell for every scalp that has been taken, followed by 
a rapid succession of shrill, quick, piercing shrieks, some- 
what resembling laughter in its most excited tones. They* 
were answered from the Indian camp below, by a discharge* 
of rifles and a long whoop, followed by shrill cries of joy, 
and all thronged out to meet the party. Smith expected in- 
stant death at their hands, as they crowded around him; but 
to his surprise, no one offered him any violence. They be- 
longed to another tribe, and entertained the party in their 
camp with great hospitality, respecting the prisoner as the 
property of their guests. On the following morning Smith's 
captors continued their march, and on the evening of the 
next day arrived at fort Du Quesne — now Pittsburgh. When 
within half a mile of the fort, they again raised the scalp 
halloo, and fired their guns as before. Instantly the whole 
garrison was in commotion. The cannon were fired — the 
drums were beaten, and French and Indians ran out in great 
numbers to meet the party, and partake of their triumph. 
Smith was again surrounded by a multitude of savages, pain- 
ted in various colours, and shouting with delight; but their 
demeanor was by no means as pacific as that of the last par- 
ty he had encountered. They rapidly formed in two long 
lines, and brandishing their hatchets, ramrods, switches, &c. 
called aloud upon him to run the gauntlet. Never having 
heard of this Indian ceremony before, he stood amazed for 
some time, not knowing what to do; but one of his captors 
explained to him, that he was to run between the two lines, 
and receive a blow from each Indian as he passed, conclu- 
ding his explanation by exhorting him to "run his best,'* as 
the faster he ran the sooner the affair would be over. This 
truth was very plain — and young Smith entered upon his 
race with great spirit. He was switched very handsomely 
»long the lines, for about three-fourths of the distance, the 



16 SKETCHES OF 

stripes only acting as a spur to greater exertions, and he had 
slrnost reached the opposite extremity of the line, when a 
tail chief struck him a furious blow with a club upon the 
back of the head, and instantly felled him to the ground. 
Recovering himself in a moment, he sprung to his feet and 
started forward again, when a handful of sand was thrown 
in his eyes, which, in addition to the great pain, completely 
blinded him. He still attempted to grope his way through; 
but was again knocked down and beaten with merciless se- 
verity. He soon became insensible under such barbarous 
treatment, and recollected nothing more, until lie found him- 
self in the hospital of the fort, under the hands of a French 
surgeon, beaten to a jelly, and unable to move a limb. Here 
he was quickly visited by one of his captors — the same 
who had given hirn such good advice, when about to com- 
mence his race. He now enquired, with some interest, if 
he felt "Very sore- 5 Young Smith replied, that he had been 
bruised almost to death, and asked what he had done to mer- 
it such barbarity. The Indian replied that he had done no- 
thing, but that it was the customary greeting of the Indians 
to their prisoners — that it was something like the English 
"how d'ye do?'" 5 and that now all ceremony would belaid 
aside, and he would be treated with kindness. Smith enqui- 
red if they had any news of Gen. Braddock. The Indian 
replied that their scouts saw him every day from the moun- 
tains — that he was advancing in close columns through the 
woods — (this he indicated by placing a number of red sticks 
pararallel to each other, and pressed closely together) — and 
that the Indians would be able to shoot them down "like pi- 
geons." 

Smith rapidly recovered, and was soon able to walk upon 
the battlements of the fort, with the aid of a stick. While 
engaged in this exercise, on the morning of the 9— — , he 
observed an unusual bustle in the fort, The Indians stood in 



WESTERN AfiVEKlTBE. 17 

crowds at the great gate, armed and painted. Many barrels 
of powder, ball, flints, &,c. were brought out to them, from 
which each warrior helped himself to such articles as he re- 
quired. They were soon joined by a small detachment of 
French regulars, when the whole party marched off togeth- 
er. He had a full view of them as they passed, and was 
confident that they could not exceed four hundred men. He 
soon learned that it was detached against Braddock, who was 
now within a few miles of the fort ; but from their great in- 
feriority in numbers, he regarded their destruction as cer- 
tain, and looked joyfully to the arrival of Braddock in the 
evening, as the hour which was to deliver him from the pow- 
er of the Indians. In the afternoon , however, an Indian run- 
ner arrived with far different intelligence. The battle had 
not yet ended when he left the field ; but he announced that 
the English had been surrounded r and were shot down in 
heaps by an invisible enemy; that instead of flying at once 
or rushing upon their concealed foe, they appeared com- 
pletely bewildered, huddled together in the centre of the 
ring, and before sun down there would not be a man of them 
alive. This intelligence fell like a thunderbolt upon Smith, 
who now saw himself irretrievably in the power of the sava- 
ges, and could lock forward to nothing but torture or endless 
captivity. He waited anxiously for further intelligence, still 
hoping that the fortune of the day might change. But about 
sunset, he heard at a distance the well known scalp hal- 
loo, followed by wild, quick, joyful shrieks, and accompanied 
by long continued firing. This too surely announced the 
fate of the day. About dusk, the party returned to the fort, 
driving before them twelve British regulars, stripped naked 
and with their faces painted black! an evidence that the un- 
happy wretches were devoted to death. Next came the In- 
dians displaying their bloody scalps, of which they had im- 
mense numbers, and dressed in the scarlet coats, sashes, and^ 

2* 



IS SKETCHES OF 

military hats of the officers and soldiers. Behind all came 
a train of baggage horses, laden with piles of scalps, can- 
teens, and all the accoutrements of British soldiers. The sav- 
ages appeared frantic with joy, and when Smith beheld them 
entering the fort, dancing, yelling, brandishing their red tom- 
ahawks, and waiving their scalps in the air, while the great 
guns of the fort replied to the incessant discharge of rifles 
without; he says, that it looked as if H — 11 had given a holi- 
day, and turned loose its inhabitants upon the upper world. 
The most melancholy spectacle was the band of prisoners. 
Taey appeared dejected and anxious. Poor fellows! They 
had but a few months before left London, at the command of 
their superiors, and we may easily imagine their feelings, 
at the strange and dreadful spectacle around them. The 
yells of delight and congratulation were scarcely over, when 
those of vengeance began. The devoted prisoners — British 
regulars — were led out from the fort to the banks of the Al- 

;heny, and to the eternal disgrace of the French comman- 
t, were there burnt to death one after another, with the 
most awful tortures. Smith stood upon the battlements and 
witnessed the shocking spectacle. The prisoner was tied to 
a stake with his hands raised above his head, stripped naked, 
and surrounded by Indians. They would touch him with 
red hot irons, and stick his body full of pine splinters and set 
them on fire — drowning the shrieks of the victim in the yells 
of delight with which they danced around him. His com- 
panions in the mean time stood in a group near the stake, 
had a foretaste of what was in reserve for each of them. 
As fast as one prisoner died under his tortures, another fil- 
led his place, until the whole perished. All this took place 
so near the fort, that every scream of the victims must have 
rung in the ears of the French commandant! 

Two or three days after this shocking spectacle, most of 
the Indian tribes dispersed and returned to their homes, as is 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 19 

usual with them after a great and decisive battle. Ytmng 
Smith was demanded of the French by the tribeto whom he 
belonged, and was immediately surrendered into their hands. 
The party embarked in canoes, and ascended the Alleghe- 
ny river, as far as a small Indian town about forty miles a- 
bove fort Du Quesne. There they abandoned their canoes, 
and striking into the woods, travelled in a western direction^ 
until thsy arrived at a considerable Indian town, in what 
is now the state of Ohio. This village was called T-ulli- 
has — and was situated upon the western branch of the Mus- 
kingum. During the whole of this period, Smith suffered 
much anxiety, from the uncertainty of his future fate, but at 
this town all doubt was removed. On the morning of his 
arrival, the principal members of the tribe gathered around 
him — and one old man with deep gravity, began to pluck 
out his hair by the roots, while the others looked on in si- 
lence, smoking their pipes with great deliberation. Smith 
did not understand the design of this singular ceremony, but 
submitted very patiently to the man's labours, who perform- 
ed the operation of "picking" him with great dexterity, dip- 
ping his fingers in the ashes occasionally, in order to take a 
better hold. In a very few moments Smith's head was bald, 
with the exception of a single long tuft upon the centre of 
his crown, called the "scalp lock.'" This was carefully 
plaited in such a manner, as to stand upright, and was orna- 
mented with several silver brooches. His ears and nose 
were then bored with equal gravit3v, and ornamented with 
ear rings and nose jewels. He was then ordered to strip*— 
which being done, his naked body was painted in various 
fantastic colors, and a breech-cloth fastened around his Joins. 
A belt of wampum was then placed around his neck, and sil- 
ver bands around his right arm. To all this Smith submit- 
ted with much anxiety, being totally ignorant of their cus- 
toms, and. dreading lest, like the British prisoners, he had 



20 SKETCHES OP 

been stripped and painted for the stake. His alarm was in- 
creased, when an old chief arose, took him by the arm, and 
leading him out into the open air, gave three shrill whoops, 
and was instantly surrounded by every inhabitant of the vil- 
lage, warriors, women and children. The chief then ad- 
dressed the crowd in a long speech, still holding Smith by 
the hand. When he had ceased speaking, he led Smith for- 
ward, and delivered him into the hands of three 3 oung Indi- 
an girls, who grappling him without ceremony, towed him 
off to the river which ran at the foot of the hill, dragged him 
in the water up to his breast, and all three suddenly clapping 
their hands upon his head, attempted to put him unde*. 
Utterly desperate at the idea of being drowned by these 
young ladies, Smith made a manful resistance — the squaws 
persevered — and a prodigious splashing in the water took 
place, amidst loud peals of laughter from the shore. At 
length, one of the squaws became alarmed at the furious 
struggles of the young white man, and cried out earnestly 
several times, "no hurt you ! no hurt you !" Upon this a- 
greeable intelligence, Smith's resistance ceased, and these 
gentle creatures plunged him under the water, and scrub- 
bed him from head to foot with equal zeal and perseverance. 
As soon as they were satisfied, they led him ashore, and pre- 
sented him to the chief — shivering with cold, and drippir^ 
with water. The Indians then dressed him in a rufHed 
shirt, leggins, and moccasins, variously ornamented, seated 
him upon a bearskin, and gave him a pipe, tomahawk, to- 
bacco, pouch, flint and steel. The chiefs then took their 
seats by his side, and smoked for several minutes in deep si- 
lence, when the eldest delivered a speech, through an inter- 
preter, in the following words : "My son, you are now one 
of us. Hereafter, you have nothing to fear. By an ancient 
custom, you have been adopted in the room of a brave man, 
who has fallen; and every drop of white blood has been wash- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 21 

ed from your veins. We are now your brothers, . and are 
bound by our law to love you, to defend you, and to avenge 
your injuries r as much as if you were born in our tribe." 
He was then introduced to the members of the family into 
which he had been adopted, and was received by the whole 
of them with great demonstrations of regard. In the eve- 
ning, he received an invitation to a great feast — and was 
there presented with a wooden bowl and spoon, and 
directed to fill the former from a huge kettle of boiled 
corn and hashed venison. The evening concluded with a 
war dance, and on the next morning, the warriors of the tribe 
assembled, and leaving one or two hunters, to provide for 
their families in. their absence, the rest marched off for the 
frontiers of Virginia. In leaving the village, the warriors 
observed the most profound silence, with the exception of their 
leader, who sung the travelling song, as it is called, and when 
some distance off, they discharged their rifles slowly, and in 
regular succession, beginning in front and ending with the 
rear. As scon as the warriors had left them, Smith was in- 
vited to a dance, in which the Indian boys and young un- 
married squaws assembled, and entertained themselves for 
several hours together. They formed in two lines facing 
each other, at the distance of about twenty feet. One of the 
young men held a gourd in his hand, filled with pebbles, or 
beads, which he rattled in such a manner as to produce mu- 
sic, and all the dancers singing in concert with their leader, 
moved forward in a line until the parties met — then retired* 
and repeated the same exercise for hours, without the least 
variation. Young Smith was merely a spectator in this 
scene, and his chief entertainment arose from obseiving the 
occasional symptoms of gallantry and coquetry which di- 
versified the monotony of the dance . Heads were often bent 
close together as the two lines met, and soft whispers, ogling 
glances, and am occasional gentle tap upon the cheek, con- 



22 SKETCHES OF 

vinced Smith, that Indians are not so insensible to the charms 
of their squaws as has been represented. An Indian court- 
ship is somewhat different from ours. With them, all the 
coyness, reserve, and pretty delays are confined to the gen- 
tlemen. The young squaws are bold, forward, and by no 
means delicate in urging their passion — and a particularly 
handsome or promising young hunter, is often reduced to des- 
perate extremities, to escape the toils of these female Lotha- 
rios ! Smith was uniformly treated with the greatest kind- 
ness ? and was for some time particularly distressed by the 
pressing invitations to eat, which he received from all quar- 
ters. With the Indians, it is uniformly the custom to invite 
every visitor to eat, as soon as he enters the wigwam, and 
if he refuses, they are much offended, regarding it as an 
evidence of hostility to them, and contempt for their house- 
keeping. Smith, ignorant of this circumstance, was some- 
times pressed to eat twenty times in a day, and observing 
their dark and suspicious glances when he declined their 
hospitality, he endeavored at length to satisfy them at the 
risk of stuffing himself to death. Making it a point to eal 
with all who invited him, he soon found himself in great favor^ 
and in the course of a week after his adoption, an old chief 
honored him with an invitation to hunt with him. Smith 
readily consented. At the distance of a few miJes from the 
village, thev discovered a number of buffalo tracks. The old 
Indian regarded them attentively — and followed them with 
great caution, stopping frequently to listen, and rolling his 
eyes keenly in every direction.. Smith, surprised at this sin- 
singular conduct, asked him why he did not push on 
more rapidly, and endeavor to get a shot. "Hush !" said the 
Indian, shaking his head — "may be buffalo — may be Cataw- 
ba!" Having at length satsified himself, that they were re- 
ally buffalo — he pushed on more rapidly, and on the way r 
assigned his reasons for his hesitation, He said, that the: 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 28 

Catawbas had Jong been at war with his tribe, and were the 
most cunning and wicked nation in the world. That a few 
years ago, they -had secretly approached his camp in the 
night, and sent out a few of their spies, mounted upon buffalo 
hoofs, who walked round their camp, and then returned to the 
main body. That, in the morning, he and his warriors, per- 
ceiving their tracks, supposed a herd of buffalo to be ahead 
of them, and moved on rapidly in pursuit. That, they soon 
fell into the ambuscade, were fired on by the Catawba's and 
many of them killed. The Catawbas, however, quickly 
gave way, and were pursued by his young men with great 
eagerness. But they had taken the precaution to stick a 
number of slender reeds in the grass, sharpened like a pen, 
and dipped in rattlesnake's poison, so that as his young men 
pursued them eagerly, most of them were artificially snake- 
bitten, and lamed. That the Catawbas then turned upon 
them, overpowered them, and took the scalps of all w T ho had 
been lamed by the reeds. The old man concluded by sha- 
king his head, and declaring, that "Catawba was a very bad 
Indian — a perfect devil for mischief." Smith, however, 
was so unfortunate a few days afterwards, as to fall into dis- 
credit with these simple people. He had been directed to go 
out and kill some venison for the squaws and children, who 
had suffered for several days, during the absence of the grea- 
ter part of the warriors. As this was the first time that he 
had been entrusted with so weighty a commission alone, he 
determined to signalize his hunt by an unusual display of 
skill and enterprize. He, therefore, struck boldly into the 
woods, and at a few miles distance, falling upon a fresh buf- 
falo trail, he pushed on for several miles with great eager- 
ness. Despairing, however, of overtaking them, as the eve- 
ning came on, he began to retrace his steps, and as he had 
taken a considerable circuit, he determined to cut across the 
hills, and reach the village by a shorter way. Hesooa be- 



24 SKETCHES OF 

came inextricably involved in the mazes of the forest, and at 
dark, found himself completely bewildered. He fired his 
gun repeatedly, in hopes of being heard, but his signal was 
unanswered, and he wandered through the woods the whole 
night, totally unable to find his way home. Early in the 
morning, the Indians, probably suspecting him of desertion, 
started out in pursuit of him, but observing the zigzag man- 
ner in which the young woodsman had marched, they soon 
became satisfied of the truth, and their anger was changed 
to laughter and contempt. Smith's rifle was taken from him, 
and a bow and arrow (the weapons of a boy,) were placed in 
his hands; and although he was treated with undiminished 
kindness by all, yet it was evident, that it was mingled with 
compassion and contempt, for his ignorance of the woods. 
He was now placed under the particular care of Tontileau- 
£0, his adopted brother, and a renowned hunter and warrior. 
With the aid of his directions, he soon learned all the m}- sto- 
ries of hunting. He trapped beaver, killed deer, bear and 
buffalo, with great readiness — and in the course of the win- 
ter, rose considerably in reputation. The warriors were 
still absent, and the women and children depended on them 
entirely for subsistence. Sometimes they were three days 
without food; particularly, w T hen the snow became hard, 
and the noise which they made in walking on the crust fright- 
ened the deer, so that they could not come within gunshot. 
Their only resource then, was to hunt bear trees; that is, for 
large hollow trees in which bears lay concealed during the 
winter. The hole is generally from thirty to fifty feet from 
the ground, and they are often compelled to climb up and ap- 
ply fire, in order to drive bruen out, who obstinately main- 
tains his ground until nearly stifled with smoke, and then 
sneezing and snuffling, and growling, he shows himself at 
the mouth of his hole, for a little fresh air. The hunter sta- 
tions himself below, and fires upon him as soon as heap- 




WESTERN ADVENTURE. 25 

pears. Towards spring, the warriors generally return, and 
orame is then killed in abundance. We shall here pause, in 
our narrative, to mention some traits of Indian character and 
manners, which, perhaps, will be interesting to many of our 
readers, who have not had opportunities of informing them- 
selves on the subject. The lives of the men are passed in al- 
ternate action of the most violent kind, and indolence the 
most excessive. Nothing but the pressing call of hunger, 
will rouse them to much exertion. 

In the month of August and September, when roasting 
ears are abundant, they abandon themselves to laziness, dan- 
cing and gaming, and can rarely be roused even to hunt, so 
long as their cornfields will furnish them food. During this 
month, they are generally seen lying down in idle contempla- 
tion, dancing with their sqitaws, playing at foot-bail, or en- 
gaged m a game resembling dice, of which they are im- 
moderately fond. War and Hunting are their only serious oc- 
cupations, and all the drudgery of life devolves upon the 
squaws. Smith gave high offence to the warriors by taking 
a hoe into his hand, and working with the squaws for half an 
hour, at a time when they were engaged in planting corn. 
They reprimanded him with some severity for his industry, 
observing that it was degrading to a warrior to be engaged 
in labor like a squaw ; and for the future he must learn to 
demean himself more loftily, always remembering that he 
was a member of a warlike tribe, and a noble family. 

They are remarkably hospitable, always offering to a 
stranger, the best that they have. If a warrior, upon en- 
tering a strange wigwam, is not immediately invited to eat, 
lie considers himself deeply affronted, although he may have 
just risen from a meal at home. It is not enough on these 
occasions that ordinary food, such as venison orhomony, is 
offered. It is thought rude and churlish, not to set before their 
st, their greatest delicacies, such as sugar, bears oil. hon- 
3 






26 SKETCHES OF 



ey, and if they have it, rum. If there is no food of any kin3 
in the house, which is often the case, the fact is instantly 
mentioned, and is at once accepted as a sufficient apology. 
Smith was so unfortunate, as to incur some reproach upon 
this subject also. While he, and his adopted brother, Tonti- 
leaugo, were encamped in the woods, hunting, there came a 
hunter of the Wyandott tribe, who entered their camp, faint 
and hungry, having had no success in hunting, and conse- 
quently, having fasted for several days. Tont ileaugo was 
absent at the time, but Smith received the visitor with great 
hospitality, (as he thought) and gave him an abundant 
meal of homony and venison. Shortly after the Wyan- 
dott's departure, his brother, Tontileaugo returned, and 
Smith informed him of the visit of the stranger, and of his 
own hospitable reception. Tontileaugo listened with gravi- 
ty, and replied : "And I suppose of course, you brought up 
some of the sugar and bear ? s oil, which was left below in the 
canoe?" "No," replied Smith, "I never thought of it — it 
was at too great a distance." "Well, brother," replied Ton- 
tileaugo, "you have behaved just like a Dutchman! I can 
excuse it in you for this time, as you are young, and have 
been brought up among the white people — but you must 
learn to behave like a warrior, and never be caught in such 
little actions! Great actions alone, can ever make a great 
man !" 

Their power of sustaining long continued fatigue is as 
extraordinary. Even their squaws will travel as fast as 
an ordinary horse, and pack an incredible quantity of bag- 
gage upon their backs. In the spring of 1756, a great 
quantity of game had been killed, at a considerable distance 
from the village ; and all the inhabitants, including squaws 
and boys, turned out to bring it home. Smith was loaded 
with a large piece of buffalo, which, after packing two or 
three miles, he found too heavy for him, and was compelled 



WESTERN' ADVENTURE. 27 

fo throw it down. One of the squaws laughed heartily, and 
coming up, relieved him of a large part of it. adding it to her 
own pack, which before, was equal to Smith's. This he 
says, stimulated him to greater exertion than the severest 
punishment would have done. 

Their warriors, for a short distance, are not swifter than 
the whites, but are capable of sustaining the exercise, for 
an incredible length of time. An Indian warrior can run 
for twelve or fourteen hours without refreshment, and after a 
hasty meal, and very brief repose, appear completely refresh- 
ed, and ready for a second course. Smith found it more dif- 
ficult to compete with them in this respect, than any other. 
For although he ran with great swiftness for a few miles, he 
could not continue such violent exertion for a whole day. 
While he and his brother Tontiieaugo were encamped at a 
distance from the others, they were much distressed from hav - 
ing to pack their meat from such a distance, and as three hor- 
ses were constantly grazing near them,(for there was grass u n- 
der the snow,)Tontiieaugo proposed that they should run them 
clown, and catch them, it having been found impossible to take 
them in any other way. Smith, having but little relish for the 
undertaking, urged the impossibility of success. But Tonti- 
ieaugo replied, that he had frequently run down bear, deer, 
elk and buffalo, and believed, that in the course of a day and 
night, he could run down any four-footed animal, except the 
wolf. Smith observed, that, although deer were swifter 
than horses for a short distance, yet, that a horse could run 
much longer than either the elk or buffalo, and that he was 
confident they would tire themselves to no purpose. The 
other insisted upon making the experiment, at any rate; and 
at daylight, on a cold day in February, and on a hard snow 
several inches deep, the race began. The two hunters 
stripped themselves to their moccasins, and started at full 
speed. The horses were in high order, and very wild, but 



28 SKETCHES OF 

contented themselves with running in a circle of six or seven 
miles circumference, and would not entirely abandon their 
usual grazing ground. At ten o'clock, Smith had dropped 
considerably astern, and before eleven, Tontileaugo and the 
horses were out of sight ; the Indian keeping close at their 
heels, and allowing them no time for rest. Smith, naked as 
he was, and glowing with exercise, threw himself upon the 
hard snow; and having cooled himself in this manner, he re- 
mained stationary until three o'clock in the evening, when 
the horses again came in view, their flanks smoking like a 
seething kettle, and Tontileaugo close behind them, running 
with undiminished speed. Smith being now perfectly fresh, 
struck in ahead of Tontileaugo, and compelled the horses to 
quicken their speed, while his Indiau brother from behind, 
encouraged him to do his utmost — after shouting "chako !— 
chokoa-nough!" (pull away! pull away my boy!) Had 
Tontileaugo thought of resting, and committed the chase to 
Smith alone, for some hours, and then in his turn relieved 
him, they might have succeeded; but neglecting this plan, 
they both continued the chase until dark, when, perceiving that 
the horses ran still with great vigor, they despaired of suc- 
cess, and returned to the camp, having tasted nothing since 
morning, and one of them at least, having run- nearly one 
hundred miles. Tontileaugo was somewhat crestfallen at 
the result of the race, and grumbled not a little at their 
long wind; but Smith assured him that they had attempted 
an impossibility, and he became reconciled to their defeat. 
Their discipline, with regard to their children, is not re- 
markably strict. Whipping is rare with them, and is con- 
sidered the most disgraceful of all punishments. Duck- 
ing in cold water, is the ordinary punishment of misbeha- 
vior ; and as might be expected, their children are more obe- 
dient in winter than in summer. Smith, during his first 
winter's residence among them, was an eye witness, to a cir; 



WESTERN ADVEXTTRE. 29 

curastance, which we shall relate, as a lively example of In- 
dian manners. His brother, Tontileaugo, was married to a 
Wyandott squaw, who had had several children by a former 
husband. One of these children offended his step-father in 
some way, who in requital, gave him the "strappado," with 
a whip made of buffalo hide. The discipline was quite mod- 
erate, but the lad shouted very loudly, and soon brought out 
his Wyandott mother. She instantly took her child's part 
with great animation. It was in vain that the husband ex- 
plained the offence, and urged the moderation with which he 
had inflicted the punisnmeae. All would not do. "The 
child, she said, was no slave to be beaten and scourged with 
a whip. His father had been a warrior, and a Wyandott, and 
his child was entitled to honorable usage. If he had offend- 
ed his step-father, there was cold water enough to be had ; let 
him be ducked until he would be brought to reason, and she 
would not utter a word of complaint; but a "buffalo tug" was 
no weapon, with which the son of a warrior ought to be 
struck — his father's spirit was frowning in the skies at the 
degradation of his child." Tontileaugo listened with great 
calmness to this indignant remonstrance ; and having lit his 
pipe, strolled off, in order to give his squaw an opportunity 
of becoming cool. The offence, however, had been of too 
serious a nature, and his squaw, shortly after his departure, 
caught a horse, and taking her children with her, rode off to 
the Wyandott village, about forty miles distant. In the af- 
ternoon, Tontileaugo returned to his wigwam, and found no 
one there but Smith, an old man and a boy. He appeared 
much troubled at his squaw's refractory conduct, uttered 
some deep interjections — but finally (\id as most husbands 
are compelled to dc — followed her to make his peace. 

They are remarkably superstitious, and hold their "'con- 
jurors" in great veneration. These dignitaries are generally 
old and decrepid . On the borders of Lake Erie, one evening 

3* 



SO SKETCHES OF 

a squaw came running into camp, where Smith, Tontileaugo 
and a few others were reposing, after a long day's journey r 
and alarmed them with the information, that two strange In- 
dians, armed with rifles, were standing upon the opposite 
shore of a small creek, and appeared to be reconnoitering the 
camp. It was supposed that they were Johnston Mohawks, 
and that they would shortly be attacked. Instantly the wo- 
men and children were sent into the woods, and the warri- 
ors retired from the light of the fires, taking their stations si- 
lently in the dark, and awaiting the enemy's approach. 
Manetohcoa, their old conjurer, alone remained by the fire, 
regardless of the danger, and busily employed in his necro- 
mantic art. To assist him in his labors, he had dyed feath- 
ers, the shoulder blade of a wildcat, and a large quantity of 
leaf tobacco. Thus accoutred, he conjured away, with 
great industry, in the light of the fire, and exposed to the 
most imminent danger, in case of an attack, as he was very 
lame, totally deaf, and miserably rheumatic. After a few 
minutes anxious expectation, old Manetohcoa, called aloud 
upon his friends to return to the fife, assuring them that there 
was no danger. They instantly obeyed, with the utmost 
confidence, and their squaws and children were recalled, as 
if no further danger was to be apprehended. Upon coming 
up, they found old Manetohcoa enveloped in tobacco smoke, 
and holding the bone of the wildcat in his hand, upon which 
his eyes were fixed with great earnestness. He told them, 
that after having burnt his feathers, fumigated himself with 
the tobacco, heated his blade bone, and pronounced his 
charm, that he expected to see a multitude of Mohawks arise 
upon the surface of the bone ; but to his surprise, he saw only 
the figures of two wolves! He assured them, that the wo- 
man had mistaken the wolves for Mohawks ; and that no en- 
emy was near them. The Indians instantly composed them- 
selves to rest — relying confidently upon the truth of the old 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 31 

man's assertions. In the morning, to Smith's astonishment, 
the tracks of two wolves were seen at the spot, where the 
squaw's account had placed the Mohawks. The Indians ex- 
pressed no surprise at this extraordinary confirmation of the 
old man's skill in divination — but Smith's infidelity was pow- 
erfully shaken! Admitting the truth of the facts, (and 
from Col. Smith's high reputation for piety and integrity, we 
presume they cannot be questioned,) it must be acknowledg- 
ed, either an extraordinary instance of sagacity — or else we 
must class it among those numerous fortunate circumstan- 
ces, which occasionally have staggered the faith of much 
more learned men than Col. Smith. Johnson's superstition is 
well known — and Smith's doubts may at least be pardoned. 
Their military principles are few and simple, but remark- 
able for sagacity, and singularly adapted the character of 
the warfare in which they are generally engaged. Caution, 
perhaps, rather than boldness, is the leading feature of their 
system. To destroy their enemy, at the least possible risk to 
themselves, is their great object. They are by no means, 
as has been sometimes supposed, destitute of discipline. 
Their manoeuvres are few, but in performing them, they are 
peculiarly alert, ready, and intelligent. In forming a line — 
in protecting their flanks, by bodies arranged "en potence,'' 
or in forming a large hollow square, for the purpose of ma- 
king head against a superior force — they are inferior to no 
troops in the world. Each movement is indicated by aloud 
whoop, of peculiar intonation, from their leader, and is irreg- 
ularly, but rapidly obeyed. The result is order — although 
during the progress of the movement, the utmost apparent 
confusion prevails. Nothing astonished them more, than the 
pertinacity with which Braddock adhered to European tac- 
tics, in the celebrated battle on the banks of the Monongahe- 
la. They often assured Smith that the long knives were 
fools : That they could neither fight nor run away, but drew 



32 SKETCHES OF 

themselves up in close order, and stood still, as if to give 
their enemies the best possible opportunity of shooting them 
down at their leisure. Grants masquerade before the walla 
of fort Du Quesne, also gave them much perplexity. A 
venerable Caughnewaughga chief, who had in his youth, 
been a renowned warrior and counsellor, and who excelled 
all his cotemporaries in sagacity and benevolence, frequent- 
ly told Smith, that Grant's conduct was to him totally inex- 
plicable. This General formed the advance of General 
Forbes in '77. He marched with great secrecy and celer- 
ity through the woods, and appeared upon the hill above Du 
Quesne in the night. There he encamped, and by way of 
bravado, caused the drums to beat, and the bagpipes to 
play, as if to inform the enemy of his arrival. At day light, 
he was surrounded by Indians — who creeping up, under cov- 
er of bushes, gullies, &c, nearly annihilated his army with- 
out any sensible loss to themselves. The old chief observ- 
ed, "that as the great art of war consisted in ambushing and 
surprising your enenry, and preventing yourself from being 
surprised, that Grant had acted like a skilful warrior incom- 
ing secretly upon them — but that his subsequent conduct in 
giving the alarm to his enemy, instead of falling upon him 
with the bayonet, w r as very extraordinary; that he could 
only account for it, by supposing that Grant, like too many 
other warriors, was fond of rum,, and had become drunk a- 
bout day light." 

They have the most sovereign contempt for all book 
learning ! Smith was occasionally in the habit of reading 
a few elementary English books, which he had procured 
from traders, and lost credit among them by his fondness 
for study. 

Nothing, with them, can atone for a practical ignorance 
of the woods. We have seen, that, for losing himself, 
Smith was degraded from the rank of a warrior, and re- 



WESTERN ADVEXT17KE. 33 s 

duced to that of a boy. Two years afterwards, he regain- 
ed his rank, and was presented with a rifle, as a reward 
for an exhibition of hardihood and presence of mind. In 
company with the old chief, to whom we have just referred, 
and severel other Indians, he was engaged in hunting. A 
deep snow was upon the ground, and the weather was tem- 
pestuous. On their way home, a number of raccoon tracks 
were seen in the snowj and Smith was directed to follow 7 
them and observe where they treed. He did so, but they 
led him off to a much greater distance than was supposed, 
and the hunters were several miles ahead of him, when he 
attempted to rejoin them. At first their tracks were very 
plain in the snow, and although night approached, and the 
camp was distant, Smith felt no anxiety. But about dusk, 
his situation became critical. The weather became sud- 
denly much colder, the wind blew a perfect hurricane, and 
whirlwinds of snow blinded his eyes, and filled up the tracks 
of his companions. He had w T ith him neither a gun, fiint, 
nor steel — no shelter but a blanket, and no weapon but a 
tomahawk. He plodded on for several hours, ignorant of 
his route — stumbling over logs, and chilled with cold, until 
the snow became so deep, as seriously to impede his pro- 
gress, and the flakes fell so thick, as to render it impossi- 
ble to see where he was going. He shouted aloud for help, 
but no answer was returned, and as the storm every in- 
stant became more outrageous, he began to think that his 
hour had come. Providentially, in stumbling on through 
the snow, he came to a large sycamore, with a considera- 
ble opening on the windward side. He hastily crept in and 
found the hollow sufficiently large to accommodate him for 
the night, if the weather side could be closed so as to ex- 
clude the snow and wind, which was beating against it with 
great violence. He instantly went to work with his toma- 
hawk and cut a number of sticks, which he placed upright 



o 



34 SKETCHES OF 

against the hole, and piled brush against it in great quanti- 
ties, leaving a space open for himself to creep in. He then . 
broke up a decayed log, and cutting it into small pieces, push- 
ed them one by one into the hollow of the tree, and lastly, 
crept in himself. With these pieces, he stopped up the re- 
maining holes of his den v until not a chink was left to admit 
the light. The snow, drifting in large quantities, was soon 
banked up against his defences, and completely sheltered 
him from the storm, which still continued to rage with un- 
diminished fury. He then danced violently in the cen- 
tre of his den for two hours, until he was sufficiently warm- 
ed, and wrapping himself in his blanket, he slept soundly 
until morning He awoke in utter darkness, and groping 
about, he found his door and attempted to push it away, but 
the snow had drifted against it in such quantities, that it re- 
sisted his utmost efforts. His hair now began to bristle, 
?nd he feared that he had with great ingenuity, contrived 
to bury himself alive. He laid down again for several 
hours, meditating upon what he should do, and whether he 
should not attempt to cut through tlie free with his toma- 
hawk — but at length he made one more desperate effort to 
push away the door, and succeeded in moving it several in- 
ches, when a great bank of snow fell in upon him from a- 
bove, convincing him at once of the immense quantity 
which had fallen. He at length burrowed his way into the 
upper air, and found it broad day light, and the weather 
calm and mild. The snow lay nearly four feet deep — but 
he was now enabled to see his way clearly, and by exam- 
ining the barks of the trees, was enabled to return to camp. 

He was received with loud shouts of joy and congratu- 
lation, but not a single question was asked until he had des- 
patched a hearty meal of venison, homony and sugar. 

The old chief, Tecaughnetanego, whom we have already 
mentioned, then presented him with, his own pipe, and they 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 35 

all remained silent until Smith had smoked. When they 
saw him completely refreshed, the venerable chie£ 
addressed him in a mild and affectionate manner, (for 
Smith at that time, was a mere boy with them) and desired 
to hear a particular account of the manner in which he 
had passed the night. Not a word was spoken until Smith 
concluded his story, and then he was greeted on all sides 
with shouts of approbation. 

Tecaughnetanego arose and addressed him in a short 
speech, in which his courage, hardihood and presence of 
mind, were highly commended. He was exhorted to go on 
as he had'begun, and assured, that one day he would make 
a very great man. That all his brothers rejoiced in his safe- 
ty, as much as they had lamented his supposed death — that 
they were preparing snow shoes to go in search of him when 
he appeared, but as he had been brought up effeminately 
among the whites, they never expected to see him alive. In 
conclusion, he was promoted from the rank of a boy to that 
that of a warrior, and assured, that when they sold 
skins in the spring, at Detroit, they would purchase for him a 
new rifle. And they faithfully observed their promise. 

They are extravagantly fond of rum ; but drinking does 
not with them, as with the whites, form a part of the regular 
business of life. They occasionally indulge in a wild and 
frantic revel, which sometimes lasts several days, and then 
return to their ordinary habits. They cannot husband their 
liquor, for the sake of prolonging the pleasure of toping — it 
is used with the most reckless profusion while it lasts, and 
all drink to beastly intoxication. Their squaws are as fond 
of liquor as the warriors, and share in all their excesses* 

After the party to which Smithbelonged, had sold their 
beaver skins, and provided themselves with ammunition 
and blankets, all their surplus cash was expended in rum, 
which was bought by the keg. They then held a council, 



36 SKETCHES OF 

in which a few strong bodied hunters were selected to 
remain sober, and protect the rest during the revel, for 
which they were preparing. Smith was courteously in- 
vited to get drunk, but upon his refusal, he was told that 
he must then join the sober party, and assist in keeping 
order. This, as he quickly found, was an extremely dan- 
gerous office ; but before engaging in the serious business of 
drinking, the warriors carefully removed their tomahawks 
and knives, and took every precaution against bloodshed. A 
shocking scene then commenced. Rum was swallowed in 
immense quantities, and their wild passions were stimulated 
to frenzy ! Smith and the sober party, were exposed to the 
most imminent peril, and were compelled to risk their lives 
every moment. Much injury was done, but no lives were 
lost. 

In the Ottawa camp, where the same infernal orgies were 
celebrated, the result was more tragical. Several warriors 
were killed on the spot, and a number more wounded. 

So long as they had money, the revel was kept up day and 
night, but when their funds were exhausted, they gathered 
up their dead and wounded, and with dejected countenances, 
returned to the wilderness. All had some cause of lamen- 
tation. The blanket of one had been burnt, and he had no 
money to buy another; the fine clothes of another had been 
torn from his back ; some had been maimed ; and all had im- 
providently wasted their money. 

The religion of the Indians, although defaced by supersti • 
tion, and intermingled with many rites and notions which to 
us appear absurd, contains, nevertheless, a distinct acknowl- 
edgment of the existence of a Supreme Being, and a future 
state. The various tribes are represented by Dr. Robert- 
son as polytheists; and Mr. Hume considers polytheism as 
inseparably attendant upon the savage state. It appears, 
however, that the Western Indians approached more nearly 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 37 

to simple deism, than most savage nations with whotn we liave 
been heretofore acquainted One Great Spirit is universally 
worshipped, throughout the West — although different tribes 
give him different names. In the immense prairies of the 
West, he is generally termed the Wahcondah, or master of 
life. With the Indians of the lakes, he was generally term- 
ed Manitto, which we believe means simply "The Spirit P 
In the language of Smith's tribe he was known by the title 
of •'Owaneeyo," or the possessor of all things. 

Human sacrifices are very common among the tribes, liv- 
ing West of the Mississippi ; but I have seen no evidence of 
such a custom among those of the North-west. 

Tecaughretanego, the veteran chief whom we- have alrea- 
dy mentioned, was esteemed the wisest and most venerable 
of his own nation; and his religious opinions, perhaps, may 
be regarded as a very favorable sample of Indian theology. 
We shall take the liberty of detailing several conversations 
of this old chief, particularly upon religious subjects, which 
to us, were the most interesting passages of Smith's diary — 
growing, as they did, out of a situation, which required the 
exercise of some philosophy and reliance upon Providence. 
We have already adverted to the precarious nature of the 
Indian supplies of food, dependant as they are, upon the 
woods for their meat, and liable to frequent failures from the 
state of the weather, and other circumstances over which 
they have no control. 

It so happened that Smith, together with Tontileaugo and 
the old chief, Tecaughretanego, were encamped at a great 
distance from the rest of the tribe, and during the early part 
of the winter, they were very successful in hunting, and weue 
abundantly supplied with all necessaries. Upon the breach 
between Tontileaugo and his wife, however, Smith and the 
old chief were left in the woods, with no other company than 
than that of Nungany, a little son of the latter not more than 

4 



38 SKETCHES OF 

ten years old. Tecaughretanego, nowithstandkg his age, 
(which exceeded sixty,) was still a skilful hunter, and capa- 
ble of great exertion when in good health ; but, unfortunate- 
ly, was subject to dreadful attacks of rheumatism, during 
which, in addition to the most excruciating pain, he was in- 
capable of moving his limbs., or helping himself in any way. 
Smith was but a young hunter, andNungay n totally useless 
except as a cook ; but while Tecaughretanego retained the 
use of his limbs, notwithstanding the loss of Tontileaugo, 
they killed game very abundantly. 

About the middle of January, however, the weather be- 
came excessively cold, and the old chief was stretched upon 
the floor of his wigwam, totally unable to move. The whole 
care of the family now devolved upon Smith, and his exer- 
tions were not wanting. But from his youth and inexperi- 
ence, he was unable to provide as plentifully as Tontileaugo 
had done, and they were reduced to very short allowance. 
The old chief, notwithstanding the excruciating pain which 
he daily suffered, always strove to entertain Smith at night, 
with agreeable conversation, and instructed him carefully 
and repeatedly in the art of hunting. At length the snow 
became hard and crusty, and the noise of Smith's footsteps 
frightened the deer, so that, with the utmost caution he could 
use, he was unable to get within gunshot. The family, in 
consequence, were upon the eve of starvation. 

One evening, Smith entered the hut, faint and weary, af- 
ter a hunt <of two days, during which he had eaten nothing. 
Tecaughretanego had fasted for the same length of time, and 
both had been upon short allowance for a week. Smith 
came in very moodily, and laying aside his gun and powder 
horn, sat down by the fire in silence. Tecaughretanego en- 
quired mildly and calmly, what success he had had. Smith 
answered, that they must starve, as the deer were so wild that 
he could not get within gunshot, and it was too far to go to 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 39- 

any Indian settlement for food. The old man remained si- 
lent for a moment, and then in the same mild tone, asked 
him if he was hungry? Smith replied, that the keen ap- 
petite seemed gone, but that he felt sick and dizzy, and 
scarcely able to walk. "I have made Nungany hunt up 
some food for you, brother," said the the old man kindly, and 
bade him produce it. This food was nothing more than the 
bones of a fox and wildcat, which had been thrown into the 
woods a few days before, and which the buzzards had alrea- 
dy picked almost bare. Nungany had collected and boiled 
them, until the sinews were stripped from the flesh — intend- 
ing them for himself and father, both of "whom were nearly 
famished; but the old man had put them away for Smith, in 
case he should again return without food. Smith quickly 
threw himself upon this savoury soup, and swallowed spoon- 
ful after spoonful, with the voracity of a. wolf. Tecaughre- 
tanego waited patiently until he had finished his meal, which 
continued until the last spoonful had been swallowed, and 
then handing him his own pipe, invited him to smoke. Lit- 
tle Nungany, in the mean time, removed the kettle, after look- 
ing in vain for some remnant of the feast for his own supper. 
He had watched every mouthful which Smith swallowed 
with eager longing, but in perfect silence, and finding, that 
for the third night, he must remain supperless, he sat down 
quietly at his father's feet, and was soon asleep. 

Tecaughretanego, as soon as Smith had smoked, asked 
him if he felt refreshed — *and upon receiving an animated 
assurance in the affirmative, he addressed him mildly as 
follows : "I saw, my brother, when you first came in, that 
you had been unfortunate in hunting, and were ready to de- 
spair — 1 should have spoken at the time, what I am now a- 
bout to say, but I have always observed, that hungry peo- 
ple, are not in a temper to listen to reason. You are now re 
fk'eshed y and can listen patiently to the words of your elder 



40 SKETCHES OF 

brother. I was once young like you, but am now old. I 
have seen sixty snows fall, and have often been in a worse 
condition, .from want of food, than we now are; yet I have 
always been supplied, and that, too, at the very time when L 
was ready to despair. Brother : you have been brought up 
among the whites, and have not had the same opportunities of 
seeing how wonderfully Owaneeyo provides food for his 
children in the woods i He sometimes lets them be in great 
want, to teach them that they are dependant upon him, and 
to remind them of their own weakness; but he never permits 
their, absolutely to perish. Rest assured that your brother 
is telling you no lie ; but be satisfied that he will do as I have 
,told you. Go now: sleep soundly — rise early in the mor- 
ning and go out to hunt; be strong and diligent; do your 
best, and trust to Owaneeyo for the rest." ■ 

When we recollect that this admirable speech came from 
a wild Indian, totally uninstructed, and untaught to restrain 
his passions ; that at the very time, he was suffering the most 
excruciating pain, both from disease and hunger; that he 
had denied himself a morsel of food, in order to bestow it 
upon Smith ; and, lastly, that from the state of the snow and 
Smith's inexperience, he had no human prospect of relief— 
it is no exaggeration to say, that a more striking example of 
wisdom, mildness and magnanimity was never exhibited. 

Smith was powerfully struck by the old man's reasoning ; 
and still more affected by the patience and firmness with 
which he sustained himself, under the complicated suffering 
with which he was visited. In the morning, at daylight, he* 
seized his gun, and commenced the duties of the day with 
great spirit. He saw a great many deer, but the crashing 
of the crust alarmed them as heretofore ; and after hunting 
until noon without success, he began to suspect that Tecaugh- 
retanego must have been mistaken, and that they were cer- 
tainly destined to starve. His hunger seemed rather whet 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 41 

ted than allayed by his sumptuous repast upon wildcat bones, 
the evening before^ and now became so ravenous as to divest 
him of all reason, and he determined to run back to Pennsyl- 
vania. True, the intervening country was crowded with 
hostile Indians, but the edge of the tomahawk was not keener 
than that of hunger; and a sharp and quick death, infinite- 
ly preferable to the slow and torturing ravages of starvation. 
Having hastily adopted this desperate resolution, he quick- 
ened his pace, and moved off steadily in the direction of 
Pennsylvania. He had not gone more than seven or eight 
miles, before he heard the lowing of buffalo in front, and in 
a" few minutes, came in view ofanobJe herd, marching leis- 
urely ahead of him. He ran with great rapidity in such a di- 
rection as to head them, and concealing himself in a thicket, 
awaited their approach. They passed leisurely within a few 
yards of him, so that he had an opportunity of selecting a 
fat heifer, which he killed at the first fire. He quickly struck 
fire from his flint — and cutting a few slices from the fleshi- 
est part, he laid it upon the coals, but could not wait until it 
was done. After gorging himself with raw beef, which 
(with the exception of the wild cat bones of the preceding 
night,) he thought the most delicious food he had ever t?.;^ec\ 
he began to be tenderly concerned for the old mar* and little 
boy, whom he had left in a famishing condition at the wig- 
wam. His conscience reproached hi^i for leaving them to 
perish; and he instantly loaded himself heavily with the 
fattest and fleshiest pieces, and having secured the rest from 
the wolves, returned to iheir camp, with as much expedition 
as he could exert. It was late at night when he entered the 
wigwam. Tecaughretanego received him with the same 
mild equanimity which had heretofore distinguished him, 
and thanked him very affectionately for the exertions which 
he had used, while the eyes of the famished boy were fasten- 
ed upon the beef as if he would devour it raw. His- father 

4* 



42 SKETCHES OF ~ 

ordered him to hang on the kettle and cook some beef for 
them all — but Smith declared that he himself would cook 
for the old man, while Nungany broiled some meat upon the 
coals for himself. The boy looked eagerly at his father for 
his consent, and receiving a nod in reply, he sprung upon the 
meat as a kite would pounce upon a pullet, and unable to 
wait for the slow operation of the fire, began to eat it raw. 
Smith in the mean time had cut several very thin slices and 
placed them in the kettle to boil — but supposing Tecaughre- 
tanego as impatient as himself, he was about to take it off the 
iire after a very few minutes, when the old man, in a tone 
as calm and quiet as if he had not fasted for three whole days, 
desired him to "let it be done enough." At the same 
time he ordered Nungany, who was still eating like a shark, 
to take no more at present, but to sit down, and after a few 
minutes he might sup a little broth. The old man then re- 
minded Smith of their conversation the night before — and of 
the striking truth with which his assurance of Ovvaneeyo's 
goodness had been accomplished. At length he desired 
Smith to give him the beef, observing that it had been 
boiled enough, and as if he had reserved all his vigor for 
that moment, he assaulted it with a keenness and persever- 
ance, which showed that the gifts of Owaneeyo were not 
thrown away. 

In the morning, Tecaughretanego requested Smith to re- 
turn to the spot where he had killed the buffalo, and bring in 
the rest of it to camp. He accordingly took down his rifle 
and entered the wood, intending to hunt on the road. At the 
distance of a few miles from camp, he saw a large elm, which 
had been much scratched, and perceiving a hole in it at the 
distance of forty feet from the ground, he supposed that a bear 
had selected it for his winter quarters, and instantly determined 
to rouse him from his slumbers. With his tomahawk, he cut 
down a sapling which grew near the tree, in sucba manner as to 



WESTERN ADVENTfTBE. 43 

lodge it against the den. He then cut a long pole, and tied 
a few bunches of rotten wood to the end of it. Taking h 
then in his hand, he climbed the sapling, until he reached the 
mouth of the den, and setting fire to the rotten wood, put it 
into the hollow as far as he could reach. He soon had the 
gratification of hearing poor bruin sneeze and cough, as if hi 
great trouble — and rapidly sliding down the sapling, he seiz- 
ed his gun at the moment that the bear showed himself. He 
iustantly sb:ot him, and having loaded himself with the hind 
quarters, he marched back in high spirits to the wigwam* 
They were now well provided for a week — and in a few days 
the snow thawed so much as to enable him to kill deer; so 
that during the rest of the winter, they fared sumptuously. 

Early in April, Tecaughretanego's rheumatism abated so 
much as to permit him to walk, upon which, they all three 
built a bark canoe, and descended the Ollentangy, until the 
water became k so shallow as to endanger their frail bark a- 
mong the rocks. A council was then held, in which Te- 
caughretanego proposed to go ashore, and pray for rain to 
raise the creek or river, so as to enable them to continue 
their journey. Smith readily consented, and they accor- 
dingly disembarked, drawing their canoe ashore after them. 
Here the old Indian built a "sweating house," in order to pu- 
rify himself, before engaging in his religious duties. He 
stuck a number of semicircular hoops in the ground, and laid 
a blanket over them. He then heated a number of largo 
stones, and placed them under the blanket, and finally crawl* 
ed in himself, with a kettle of water in his hand, directing 
Smith to draw down the blanket after him, so as almost eiv 
tirely to exclude the external air. He then poured the water 
upon the hot stones, and began to sing aloud with great en- 
ergy — the steam rising from the blanket like a heavy mist. 
In this hot place he continued for fifteen minutes, singing 
the whole time, and then came out dripping with perspire- 



44"' SKETCHES or 

tion from head to foot. As soon as he had taken breath, he 
began to burn tobacco, throwing it into the fire by handfuls, 
and at the same time, repeating the following words in a tone 
of deep and solemn earnestness : "Oh Great Owaneeyo ! I 
thank thee that I have regained the use of my legs once 
more ; that 1 am now able to walk about and kill turkies, 
without feeling exquisite pain. Oh ! ho! ho ! ho ! Grant that 
my knees and ancles may be right well, that I may be able 
not only to walk, but to run and to jump logs, as I did last 
fall! Oh! ho! ho! ho! Grant that upon this voyage, we 
may frequently kill bear as they may be crossing the San- 
dusky and Scioto ! - Oh ! ho ! ho ! ho ! Grant that we may 
also kill a few turkies to stew with our bear's meat! Oh! 
ho! ho! ho! Grant that rain may come to raise the Oileu- 
tangy a few feet, that we may cross in safety down to Scioto, 
without splitting our canoe upon the rocks — and now O 
Great Owaneeyo ! thou knowest how fond I am of tobacco, 
and though I do not know when I shall get any more, yet 
you see that I have freely given up all I have for a burnt of- 
fering; therefore, I expect that thou willt be merciful and hear 
all my petitions—and I, thy servant will thank thee, and love 
thee for all^thy gifts." 

Smith held the old chief in great veneration, and has ob- 
served, that he never in his life listened to a man who rea- 
soned more clearly and powerfully upon such subjects as 
came before him; and he heard the first part of his prayer 
with great respect and due gravity; but when the attention 
of Owaneeyo was called to the tobacco, which his votary 
bestowed upon him so liberally, his muscles gave way, and 
in spite of his efforts to restrain himself, he burst into a low 
and half stifled laugh. Ridicule is at all times formidable, 
but particularly so in a moment of enthusiasm and sincere 
devotion. Tecaughretanego was deeply and seriously of- 
fended, and rebuked his young companion in the following 






WESTERN ADVENTURE. 45 

words : "Brother, I have somewhat to say to yon !' When 
you were reading your books in our village, you know I 
would not let the boys plague you or laugh at you, although 
we all thought it a foolish and idle occupation in a warrior. 
I respected your feelings then — but just now I saw you laugh- 
ing at me ! Brother, I do not believe that you look upon 
prayiiig as a siHy custom, for you sometimes pray yourself 
Perhaps you think my mode of praying foolish,but if so, 
would it not be more friendly to reason with me, and instruct 
me, than to sit on that log and laugh at an old man." 

Smith apologized with great earnestness — declaring that 
he respected and loved him sincerely, but that when he saw 
him throw the last of his tobacco into the fire, and recollected 
how fond he was of it, he could not help smiling a little, al- 
though for the future he would never have reason to com- 
plain of him on that account. The old man, without saying 
a word, handed him his pipe as atoken of friendship, although 
it was filled only with willow bark; and the little difference 
was soon forgotten. 

Smith then explained to him the outlines of the Christian • 
ReIigion : and dwelt particularly upon the doctrine of recon- 
ciliation through the atonement of Christ. Tecaughrelane- 
go listened with patience and gravity until his companion 
had ended his remarks, and then calmly observed, "that it 
might be so P He even acknowledged, "that it did not ap- 
pear so absurd, as the doctrine of the Romish Priests, which 
he had heard at Detroit, but declared that he was too old now 
to change his religion; that he should, therefore, continue to 
worship God after the manner of his fathers; and if it was 
not consistent with the honor of the Great Spirit to accept of 
him in that way — then he hoped that he;would receive him 
upon such terms as were acceptable to him ; that it was his 
earnest and sincere desire to worship the Great Spirit, and o- 
bey his wishes ; and he hoped that O waneeyo would overlook. 



46 SKETCHES OF 

such faults as arose from ignorance and weakness, not wilful 
neglect." To a speech of this kind, the sentiments of which 
find an echo in almost every breast, Smith could make no re- 
ply. Here, therefore, the subject ended. 

A few days afterward, there came a fine rain, and the 01- 
lentangy was soon sufficiently deep to admit of their passage 
in safety, and after reaching the Sandusky they killed four 
bears and a great many wild turkies. Tecaughretanego 
gravely assured Smith, that this was a clear and direct an- 
swer to his prayer, and inferred from it, that his religion 
could not be as unacceptable to Owaneeyo as Smith suppos- 
ed. Perhaps it would be difficult to disprove the first part 
of the old Indian's observation — the last is more questiona- 
ble. 

We have already gleaned all the most interesting parts of 
Smith's narrative, for the long details of huntings, trappings 
and migrations, without particular object or incident, would 
scarcely be interesting to the reader. We have endeav- 
ored to select such circumstances, as would give the gen- 
eral reader a lively idea of the habits and opinions of the 
Western Indians, without burthening our narrative with too 
much detail. As most, if not all the subsequent adventures, 
will have a close connection with Indian life, it was thought 
proper to commence with a narrative which should throw 
some light upon that subject. It is only necessary, further, 
to observe, that in the summer of 1759, and in the fourth 
year of his captivity or rather adoption, Smith, accompanied 
By Tecaughretanego and Nungany, sailed in a bark cano^ 
down the St. Lawrence, as far as Montreal. Here he pri- 
vately left his Indian companions, and went on board a 
French transport, which he had heard was about to sail, with 
a number of English prisoners on board, intended to be ex- 
changed. After having been detained sometime in Montreal, 
in consequence of the English. fleet being below, he was at 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 47 

length exchanged and returned to his native country. His 
family and sweetheart received him with great joy ; but to his 
inexpressible mortification, the latter had been married only 
a few days before his arrival. His subsequent adventures, 
although novel and interesting, do not properly come within 
the range of our present subject. We refer the reader who 
may desire to know more, to Col. Smith's own narrative, 
which has recently been reprinted by John Grigg, of Phila* 
delphia. 



48 SKETCHES OF 



CHAPTER IL 

The adventures, which in order of time, should corne 
"next, are those of the celebrated Daniel Boone; for of 
Fikdley, said to be the first white man who ever vised Ken- 
tucky, nothing is known, but the simple fact that he did visit 
it — first alone, and afterwards in company with Boone. It is 
much to be regretted, that the materials for a sketch of Boone 
are so scanty. He has left us a brief account of his adverv- 
tures, but they are rather such as one would require for the 
composition of an epitaph, than of a biography. The lead- 
ing incidents are mentioned in a general way, and there are 
some gaudy and ambitious sketches of scenery which swell 
the bulk of the piece, without either pleasing the imagina- 
tion or gratifying the curiosity. It would seem that the brief 
notes of the plain old woodsman, had been committed to some 
young sciolist inliterature,who thought that flashy description 
could atone for barrenness'of incident, A general summary 
of remarkable events, neither excites nor gratifies curiosity, 
like a minute detail of all the circumstances connected with 
them. This trait, so essential to the interest of narratives, 
and of which perhaps the most splendid example in existence^ 
lias been given in Mr. Cooper's "Last of the Mohicans," is 
deplorably wanting in most of the materials to which we 
have had access. A novelist may fill up the blank from hfe 
awn imagination; but a writer who professes to adhere to 
truth, is fettered down to the record before him. If, there- 
fore, in the following details, we should be found guilty of the 
unpardonable sin of dullness, we hope that at least a portion 
of the blame will fall upon the scantiness of the materials. 

Of Boone's early youth, nothing is known. He has mod- 1 
estly forborne to say any thing of himself, except so far as 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 49 

'he is connected with the settlement of Kentucky. He was 
born in Virginia, but instigated by that roving spirit which 
distinguished him throughout life, he emigrated at an early 
period to North Carolina, and lived until his fortieth year upon 
the banks of the Yadkin. In 1767, Findley returnedfrom his 
adventurous journey, and brought with him a report of a large 
tract of fertile country, totally unoccupied, and abounding in 
every variety of game from the beaver to the buffalo. To 
a man like Boone, fond of hunting, and naturally attached 
to a roving and adventurous life, such a scene presented ir- 
resistible charms. Accordingly, in 1769, he left his family 
upon the Yadkin, and in company with five others, of whom 
Findley was one, he moved in a western direction, being de- 
termined to explore that country of which he had heard so far 
vorable an account. 

On the 7th of June they reached Red river, and from a 
neighboring eminence, were enabled to survey the vast 
plain of Kentucky. Here they built a cabin, in order 
to afford them a shelter from the rain which had fallen in 
immense quantities on their march, and remained in a great 
measure stationary until December, killing a great quantity 
of game immediately around them. Immense herds of buf- 
falo ranged through the forest in every direction, feeding 
upon the leaves of the cane or the rich and spontaneous 
fields of clover. 

On the 22d of December, Boone and John Stuart, one of his 
companions, left their encampment, and following one of the 
numerous paths which the Buffalo had made through the 
cane, they plunged boldly into the interior of the forest. 
They had as yet seen no Indians, and the country had been 
reported as totally uninhabited. This was true in a strict 
sense, for although the southern and northwestern tribes 
were in the habit of hunting here as upon neutral ground, 
yet not a single wigwam had been erected, nor did the land 

5 



50 SKETCHES OF 

bear the slightest mark of havingever been cultivated. The 
different tribes would fall in with- each other, and from the 
fierce conflicts which generally followed these casual ren- 
contres, the country had been known among them by the 
name of "the dark and bloody. ground!" The two adven- 
turers soon learned the additional danger to which they were 
exposed. While roving carlessly from canebrake to cane- 
brake, and admiring the rank growth of vegetation, and the 
variety of timber which marked the fertility of the soil, they 
were suddenly alarmed by the appearance of a party of In- 
dians, who, springing from their place of concealment, rush- 
ed upon them With a rapidity which rendered escape impos- 
sible. They were almost instantly seized, disarmed and 
made prisoners. Their feelings may be readily imagined. 
They were in the hands of an enemy who knew no alterna- 
tive between adoption and torture, and the numbers and fleet- 
ness of their captors, rendered escape by open means im- 
possible, while their jealous vigilance seemed equally fatal 
to any secret attempt. Boone, however, was possessed of 
a temper admirably adapted to the circumstances in which 
he was placed. Of a cold and saturnine, rather than an ar- 
dent disposition, he was never either so much elevated by good 
fortune or depressed by bad, as to loose for an instant the 
full possession of all his faculties. He saw that immediate 
escape was impossible, but he encouraged his companion, 
and constrained himself to accompany the Indians in all their 
excursions, with so calm and contented an air, that their vi- 
gilance insensibly began to relax. 

On the seventh evening of their captivity, they encamp- 
ed in a thick canebrake, and having built a large fire, lay 
down to rest. The party whose duty it was to watch, were 
weary and negligent, and about midnight, Boone, who had 
not closed an eye, ascertained from the deep breathing all a- 
round him, that the whole party, including Stuart, was in a 



WESTERN ADVENTURE* 51 

deep sleep. Gently and gradually extricating himself from 
the Indians who lay around him, he walked cautiously to the 
spot where Stuart lay, and having succeeded in awakening 
him, without alarming the rest, he briefly informed him of 
his determination, and exhorted him to arise, make no noise 
and follow him. Stuart, although ignorant of the design, 
and suddenly roused from sleep, fortunately obeyed with e- 
qual silence and celerity, and within a few minutes they 
were beyond hearing. Rapidly traversing the forest, by the 
light of the stars and the barks of the trees, they ascertained 
the direction in which the camp lay, but upon reaching it on 
the next day, to their great grief, they found it plundered and 
deserted, with nothing remaining to show the fate of their 
companions : and even to the day of his death, Boone knew 
not whether they had been killed or taken, or had voluntari- 
ly abandoned their cabin and returned. Here, in a few days 
they were accidentally joind by Boone's brother and another 
man, who had followed them from Carolina, and fortunately 
stumbled upon their camp. This accidental meeting in the 
bosom of a vast wilderness, gave great relief to the two broth- 
ers, although their joy was soon overcast. 

Boone and Stuart, in a second excursion, were again pur- 
sued by savages, and Stuart was shot and scalped, while 
Boone fortunately escaped. As usual, he has not mention- 
ed particulars, but barely stated the event. Within a few 
days they sustained another calamity, if possible still more 
distressing. Their only remaining companion was benight- 
ed in a hunting excursion, and while encamped in the woods 
alone, was attacked and devoured by the wolves. 

The two brothers were thus left in the wilderness, alone, 
separated by several hundred miles from home, surrounded 
by hostile Indians, and destitute of every thing but their ri- 
fles. After having had such melancholy experience of the 
dangers to which they were exposed, we would naturally 



52 » SKETCHES OP 

suppose that their fortitude would have given way, and that' 
they would instantly have returned to the settlements. But 
the most remarkable feature in BooneV character, was a 
calm and cold equanimity which rarely rose to enthusiasm, , 
and never sunk to despondence. His courage undervalued 
the danger to which he was exposed, and his presence of 
mind, which never forsook him, enabled him, on all occasions 
to take the best means of avoiding it. The wilderness, with 
all its dangers and privations, had a charm for him, which is 
scarcely conceivable by one brought up in a city; and he 
determined to remain alone, while his brother returned to 
Carolina for an additional supply of ammunition, as their ori- 
ginal supply was nearly exhausted. His situation we should 
HOW suppOSG in the highest degree- gloomy and dispiriting. 
The dangers which attended his brother on his return were 
nearly equal to his own; and each had left a wife and chil- 
dren, which Boone acknowledged cost him many an anxious 
thought. But the wild and solitary grandeur of the country 
around him, where not a tree had been cut, nor a house erec- 
ted, was to him an inexhaustible source of admiration and 
delight; and he says himself, that some of the most raptur- 
ous moments of his life were spent in those lonely rambles. 
The utmost caution was necessary to avoid the savages, and 
scarcely less to escape the ravenous hunger of the wolves 
that prowled nightly around him in immense numbers. He 
was compelled frequently to shift his lodging, and by un- 
doubted signs, saw that the Indians had repeatedly visited his 
hut during his absence. He sometimes lay in canebrakes, 
without fire, and heard the yells of the Indians around him. 
Fortunately, however, he never encountered them. 

On the 27th of July, 1770, Ms brother returned with a 
supply of ammunition ; and with a hardihood, which appears 
almost incredible, they ranged through the country in every 
direction, and without injury, until March, 1771. They thert :< 



[ 



WESTERN ADVENTTTCE. 53 

returned to North Carolina, twhere Daniel rejoined his fami- 
ly, after an absence of three years;-. during nearly the whole 
of which time, he had never tasted bread or salt, nor seen 
the face of a single white man with the exception of hi:- 
brother j and the two friends who had been killed. He here 
determined to sell his farm and remove with his family to 
the wilderness of Kentucky — an astonishing instance of 
hardihood, and we should even say indifference to his family, 
if it were not that his character has uniformly been repre- 
sented as mild and humane, as it was bold and fearless. 

Accordingly, on the 25th of September, 1771, having dis- 
posed of all the property which he could not take with him, 
he took leave of his friends and commenced his journey to 
the west. A number of milch cows and horses, laden with 
a few necessary household utensils, formed the whole of his 
baggage. His wife ami children were mounted on horse- 
back and accompanied him, every one regarding them as 
devoted to destruction. In PowePs valley, they were joined 
by five. more families and forty men well armed, Encour- 
aged by this accession of strength, they advanced with ad- 
ditional confidence, but had soon a severe warning of the fur- 
ther dangers which awaited them. When near Cumber- 
land mountain, their rear was suddenly attacked with great 
fury by a scouting party of Indians, and thrown into consid- 
le confusion. The party, however, soon rallied, and 
being accustomed to Indian warfare, returned the fire with 
such spirit and effeci, that the Indians were repulsed with 
slaughter. Their own loss, however, had been severe. Six 
men w r ere killed upon the spot, and one wounded Among 
the killed was Boone's eldest son — to ih$ unspeakable afflic- 
tion of his family. The disorder and grief occasioned by this 
rough reception, seems to have affected the emigrants deep- 
ly? as they instantly retraced their steps to the settlements on 
Clinch river, forty miles from the scene of action. Here 

5* 



54 SKETCHES OP 

they remained until June, 1774, probably at the request of 
the women, who must have been greatly alarmed at the pros- 
pect of plunging more deeply into a country, upon the skirts 
of which, they had witnessed so keen and bloody a conflict. 

At this time, Boone, at the request of, Governor Dunmore, 
of Virginia, conducted a number of surveyors to the falls of 
Ohio, a distance of eight hundred milesv Of the incidents 
of this journey, we have no record whatever. After his re- 
turn, he was engaged under Dunmore until 1775 in several 
affairs with the Indians, and at the solicitation of some gen- 
tlemen of North Carolina, he attended at a treaty with the 
Cherokees, for the purpose of purchasing the lands south of 
Kentucky river. With his usual brevity, Boone has omit- 
ted to inform us of the particulars of this conference, or of 
the peculiar character of the business upon which he was 
sent. By the aid of Mr. Marshall's valuable history, howev- 
er, we are enabled to supply this silence — at least with re- 
gard to the latter circumstance. It seems, that the Chero- 
kees living within the chartered limits of the state of North 
Carolina, claimed all the land south of the Kentucky as far 
as Tennessee river. That CoL Richard Henderson and 
some other gentlemen, animated by the glowing description 
of the fertility of the soil, which Boone and his. brother had 
given upon their return, determined to purchase the whole of 
this immense tract from the Cherokees, and employ Boone as 
their agent. The Cherokees gladly parted with an empty 
title, for a solid, although moderate recompense, and Hen- 
derson and his friends instantly prepared to take possession, 
relying upon the validity of their deed from the Indians. 
Unfortunately, however, for the success of these speculators, 
Kentucky lay within the limits of Virginia, according to the 
old charter of King James, and that state accordingly claim- 
ed for herself solely , the privilege of purchasing the Indian 
title to lands lying within her own limits. She lost no time 



WESTERIf ADVENTTTHE. 55 

therefore, in pronouncing the treaty of Henderson null and 
void, as it regarded his own title — although by rather an ex- 
ceptionable process of reasoning, they determined that it was 
obligatory upon the Indians, so far as regarded the extinc- 
tion of their title. ■, Whether or not the reasoning was good, 
I cannot pretend to say — but supported as it was by the au- 
thority of a powerful state, it was wade good, and Hender- 
son's golden dreams completely vanished. He and his as- 
sociates, however, received a liberal grant of land lying on 
Green river, as a compensation for the expense and danger 
which they had incurred in prosecuting their settlement, 

It was under the auspices of Henderson, that Boone's next 
visit to Kentucky was made. Leaving his family on Clinch 
river, he sat out at the head of a few men, to mark out a road for 
the pack horses or wagons of Henderson's party. This la- 
borious and dangerous duty, he executed w T ith his usual pa 
tient fortitude, until he came within fifteen miles of the spot 
where Boonsborough afterwards was built. Here, on the 
22nd of March, his small party was attacked by the Indians, 
and suffered a loss of four men killed and wounded. The 
Indians, although repulsed with loss in this affair, renewed 
the attack with equal fury on the next day, and killed and 
wounded five more of his party. On the 1st of April, the 
survivors began to build a small fort on the Kentucky river, 
afterwards called Boonsborough, and on the 4th, they were 
again attacked by the Indians, and lost another man. Not- 
withstanding the harrassing attacks to which they were con- 
stantly exposed, (for the Indians seemed enraged to madness 
at the prospect of their building houses on their hunting 
ground,) the work was prosecuted with indefatigable dili- 
gence, and on the 14th was completed. 

Boone instantly returned to Clinch river for his family, de- 
termined to bring them with him at every risk. This was 
done as soon as the journey could be performed, and Mrs. 



56 SKETCHES OP 

Boone and her daughters were the first white women who 
stood upon the bank** of the Kentucky river, as Boone him 
self had been the first white man who ever built a cabin up- 
on the borders of the state. The first house, however, which 
ever stood in the interior of Kentucky, was erected at Har- 
rodsburgh, in the year 1774, by James Harrod, who con- 
ducted to this place a party of hunters from the banks of the 
Monongahela. This place was, therefore, a few months ol- 
der than Boonsborough. Both soon became distinguished, as 
the only places in which hunters and surveyors could find se- 
curity from the fury of the Indians. 

Within a few weeks after the arrival of Mrs. Boone and 
her daughters, the infant colony was reinforced by three 
more families, at the head of which were Mrs. McGary, Mrs. 
Hogan and Mrs. Denton. Boonsborough, however, was the 
central object of Indian hostilities, and scarcely had his fam- 
ily become domesticated in their new possession, when they 
were suddenly attacked by a party of Indians, and lost one 
of their garrison. This was on the 24th of December, 
1775. 

In the following July, however, a much more alarming in- 
cident occurred. One of his daughters, in company with a 
Miss Calloway, were amusing themselves in the immediate 
neighborhood of the fort, when a party of Indians, suddenly 
rushed out of a canebrake, and intercepting their return, 
took them prisoners. The screams of the terrified girls, 
quickly alarmed the family. The small garrison was dis- 
persed in their usual occupations; but Boone hastily collected 
a small party of eight men, and pursued the enemy. So much 
time, however, had been lost, that the Indians had gotten sev- 
eral miles the start of them. The pursuit was urged through 
the night with great keenness, by woodsmen capable of fol- 
lowing a trail at all times, and on the following day they 
came up with them-. The attack was so sudden and furious, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 57 

that the Indians were driven from their ground before they 
had leisure to tomahawk their prisoners, and the girls were 
recovered without having sustained any other injury, than 
excessive fright and fatigue. Nothing but a barren outline 
of this interesting occurrence has been given. We know no- 
thing of the conduct of the Indians to their captives, or of 
the situation of the young ladies during the short engage- 
ment, and cannot venture to fill up the outline from imagina- 
tion. The Indians lost two men, while Boone's party was 
uninjured. 

From this time until the 15th of Aprily 1777, the gar- 
rison was incessantly harrassed by flying parties of Indians. 
While ploughing their corn, they were waylaid and shot; 
while hunting, they were chased and fired upon ; and some- 
times a solitary Indian would creep up near the fort, in the 
night, and fire upon the first of the garrison who appeared 
in the morning. They were in a constant state of anxiety 
and alarm, and the most ordinary duties could only be per- 
formed at the risk of their lives. 

On the 15th of April, the enemy appeared in large num- 
bers, hoping to crush the infant settlement at a single blow, 
Boonsborough, Logan's fort and Harrodsburgh were attack- 
ed at one and the same timev But, destitute as they were of 
artillery, scaling ladders, and all the proper means of redu- 
cing fortified places, they could only distress the men, alarm 
the women and destroy the corn and cattle. Boonsborough 
sustained some loss, as did tihe other stations, but the enemy 
being more exposed, suffered so severely as to retire with 
precipitation. 

No rest, however, was given to the unhappy garrison. 
On the 4th of July following, they were again attacked 
by two hundred warriors, and again repulsed the enemy 
with loss. The Indians retreated, but a few days after- 
wards, fell upon Logan's station with great fury, having 



58 SKETCHES OF 

sent detachments to alarm the other stations, so as to prevent 
the appearance of reinforcements to Logan's. In this last 
attempt, they displayed great obstinacy, and as the garrison 
consisted only of 15 men, they were reduced to extremity. 
Not a moment could be allowed for sleep. Burning ar- 
rows were shot upon the roofs of thehouses, and the Indi- 
ans often pressed boldly up to the gates, and attempted to 
hew them down with their tomahawks, Fortunately, at 
this critical time, Col. Bowman arrived from Virginia with 
one hundred men well armed, and the savages precipitately 
withdrew, leaving the garrison almost exhausted with fa- 
tigue, and reduced to twelve men. 

A brief period of repose now followed, in which the set- 
tlers endeavored lo repair the damages done to their farms. 
But a period cf heavy trial to Boone and his family was ap- 
proaching. In January, 1778, accompanied by thirty men, 
Bodne went to the Blue Licks to make salt for the different 
stations ; and on the 7th of February following, while out 
hunting, he fell in with one hundred and two Indian warri- 
ors, on their march to attack Boonsborough. He instantly 
fled, but being upwards of fifty years old, was unable to con- 
tend with the fleet young men who pursued him, and was a 
second time taken prisoner. As usual he was treated with 
kindness until his final fate was determined, and was led 
back to the Licks, where his men were still < ncamped . 
Here his whole party, to the number of twenty seven, sur- 
rendered themselves, upon promise of life and good treat- 
ment, both of which conditions were faithfully observed. 

Had the Indians prosecuted their enterprise, they might 
perhaps, by showing their prisoners, and threatening to put 
them to the torture, have operated so far upon the sympa- 
thies of the garrisons, as to have obtained considerable re- 
sults. But nothing of the kind was attempted. They had 
already been unexpectedly successful, and it is their custom* 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 59, 

after either good or bad fortune, immediately to return home 
and enjoy the triumph. Boone and his party were conduc- 
ted to the old town of Chillicothe, where they remained un- 
til the following March. No journal was written during 
this period, by either Boone or his party. We are only in- 
formed that his mild and patient equanimity, wrought pow- 
erfully upon the Indians; that he was adopted into a family, 
and uniformly treated with the utmost affection. One fact 
is given us which shows his acute observation, and knowl- 
edge of mankind. At the various shooting matches to which 
he was invited, he took care not to beat them too often. He 
knew that no feeling is more painful than that of inferiority, 
and that the most effectual way of keeping them in a good hu- 
mor with him, was to keep them in a good humor with 
themselves. He, therefore? only shot well enough, to make 
it an honor to beat him, -and found himself an universal fa- 
vorite. 

It is much to be regretted, that some of our wits and ego- 
tists, of both sexes, could not borrow a little of the sagaci- 
ty of Boone, and recollect, that when they engross the atten- 
tion of the company, and endeavor most to shine, that in- 
stead of being agreeable, in nine cases out of ten they are on- 
ly bores. 

On the 10th of March, 1778, Boone was conducted to De- 
troit, when Governor Hamilton himself, offered £100 for 
his ransom; but so strong was the affection of the Indians 
for their prisoner, that it was positively refused. Several 
English gentlemen, touched with sympathy for his misfor- 
tunes, made pressing offers of money and other articles, but 
Boone steadily refused to receive benefits which he could 
never return. The offer was honorable to them, and the re- 
fusal was dictated by rather too refined a spirit of indepen- 
dence. Boone's anxiety on account of his wife and children, 
was incessant, and the more intolerable, as he dared not ex- 



60 SKETCHES* OP 

cite the suspicion of the Indians by any indication of a wish 
to rejoin them. 

Upon his return from Detroit, he observed that one hun- 
dred and fifty warriors of various tribes had assembled, pain- 
ted and equipped for an expedition against Boonsborough. 
His anxiety at this sight became ungovernable, and he de- 
termined, at every risk, to effect his escape. During the 
whole of this agitating period, however, he permitted no 
symptoms of anxiety to escape him. He hunted and shot 
with them, as usual, until the morning of the 16th of June, 
when, taking an early start, he left Chillicothe, and directed 
his route to Boonsborough. The distance exceeded one hun- 
dred and sixty miles, but he performed it in four days, during 
which he ate only one meal. He appeared before the gar- 
rison like one risen from the dead. .His wife, supposing him 
killed, had transported herself, children and property to her 
father's house, in North Carolina; his men, suspecting no 
danger, were dispersed in their ordinary avocations, and the 
works had been permitted to go to waste . Not a moment was 
to be lost. The garrison worked day and night upon the 
fortifications. New gates, new flanks and double bastions, 
were soon completed. The cattle and horses were brought 
into the fort, ammunition prepared, and every thing made 
ready for the approach of the enemy within ten days after his 
arrival. At this time,one of his companions in captivity ar- 
rived from Chillicothe^ and announced that his escape had 
determined the Indians to delay the invasion for three weeks. 
During this interval, it was ascertained that numerous 
spies were traversing the woods and hovering around the 
station, doubtless for the purpose of observing and reporting 
the condition of the garrison. Their report could not have 
been favorable. The alarm had spread very generally, and 
all were upon the alert. The attack was delayed so long, 
that Boone began to suspect that they had been discouraged 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 61 

by the report of the spies; and he determined to invade them. 
Selecting nineteen men from his garrison, he put himself at 
their head, and marched with equal silence and celerity, a- 
gainst the town of Paint Creek, on the Scioto. He arrived, 
without discovery, within four miles of the town, and there 
encountered a party of thirty warriors on their march to u- 
nite with the grand army in the expedition against Boons - 
borough. Instantly attacking them with great spirit, he 
compelled them to give way with some loss, and without any 
injury to himself He then halted, and sent two spies in ad- 
vance to ascertain the condition of the village. In a few 
hours they returned with the intelligence, that the town was 
evacuated. He instantly concluded that the grand army 
was upon its march against Boonsborough, whose situation, 
as well as his own, was exceedingly critical. Retracing his 
steps, he marched day and night, hoping still to elude the en- 
emy and reach Boonsborough before them. He soon fell in 
with their trail, and making a circuit to avoid them, he pas 
sed their army on the sixth day of his march, and on the se- 
venth reached Boonsborough. 

On the eighth, the enemy appeared in great force. There 
were nearly five hundred Indian warriors, armed and paint- 
ed in their usual manner, and what was still more formida- 
ble, they were conducted by Canadian officers, well skilled 
in the usages of modern warfare. As soon as they were ar- 
rayed in front of the fort, the British colors were displayed, 
and an officer with a flag was sent to demand the surrender of 
the fort, with a promis of quarter and good treatment in case 
of compliance, and threatening "the hatchet," in case of a 
storm. Boone requested two days for consideration, which. 
in defiance of all experience and common sense, was grant- 
ed. This interval, as usual, was employed in preparation 
for an obstinate resistance. The cattle were brought into 
the fort, the horses secured, and ail things made ready against 

6 



62 



SKETCHES OF 



the commencement of hostilities. Boone then assembled the 
garrison, and represented to them the condition in which 
they stood. They had not now to deal with Indians alone, 
but with British officers, skilled in the art of attacking forti- 
fied places, sufficiently numerous to direct, but too few to re- 
strain their savage allies. If they surrendered, their lives 
might and probably would be saved; but they w 7 ould suffer 
much inconvenience, and must loose all their property. If 
they resisted, and were overcome, the life of every man, wo- 
man and child would be sacrificed. The hour was now 
come in which they were to determine what was to be done. 
If they were inclined to surrender, he would announce it to 
the officer; if they were resolved to maintain the fort, he 
would share their fate, whether in life or in death. He had 
scarcely finished, when every man arose and in a firm tone 
announced his determination to defend the fort to the last. 

Boone then appeared at the gate of the fortress, and com- 
municated to Capt. Duquesne the resolution of his men. 
Disappointment and chagrin^ were strongly painted upon the 
face of the Canadian at this answer; but endeavoring to dis- 
guise his feelings, he declared that Governor Hamilton had 
ordered him not to injure the men if it could ha avoided, and 
that if nine of the principal inhabitants of the fort would come 
out into the plain and treat with them, they would instantly 
depart without farther hostility. The insidious nature of 
this proposal was evident, for they could converse very well 
from where they then stood, and going out would only place 
the officers of the fort at the mercy of the savages — not to 
mention the absurdity of supposing that this army of warri- 
ors would "treat" but upon such terms as pleased them, and 
no terms were likely to do so, short of a total abandonment 
of the country. Notwithstanding these obvious objections, 
the word "treat," sounded so pleasantly in the ears of the be- 
sieged, that they agreed at once to the proposal, and Boone 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 63 

himself, attended by eight of his men, went out and mingled 
with the savages, who crowded around them in great num- 
bers, and with countenances of deep anxiety. The treaty 
then commenced and was soon concluded. What the terms 
were, we are not informed, nor is it a matter of the least im- 
portance, as the whole was a stupid and shallow artifice. 
This was soon made manifest. Duquesne, after many very 
pretty periods about the "bienfaisance and hwnanite" which 
should accompany the warfare of civilized beings, at length 
informed Boone, that it was a custom with the Indians, upon 
the conclusion of a treaty with the whites, for two warriors 
to take hold of the hand of each white man. Boone thought 
this rather^a singular custom, but there was no time to dis- 
pute about etiquette, particularly, as he could not be more in 
their power than he already was ; so he signified his willing- 
ness to conform to the Indian mode of cementing friendship. 
Instantly, two warriors approached each white man, with 
the word "brother" upon their lips, but a very different ex- 
pression in their eyes, and grappling him with violence, at- 
tempted to bear him off. They probably (unless totally in- 
fatuated,) expected such a consummation, and all at the same 
moment sprung from their enemies and ran to the fort, under 
a heavy fire, which fortunately only wounded one man. 

We look here in vain for the prudence and sagacity which 
usually distinguished Boone. Indeed there seems to have 
been a contest between him and Duquesne, as to which should 
display the greater quantum of shallowness. The plot it- 
self was unworthy of a child, and the execution beneath con- 
tempt. For after all this treachery, to permit his prisoner 
to escape from the very midst of his : warriors, who cer- 
tainly might have thrown themselves between Boone and the 
fort, argues a poverty or timidity, on the part of Duquesne, 
truly despicable. 

The attack instantly commenced by a heavy fire against 



64 SKETCHES OF 

the picketing,, and was returned with fatal accuracy by the 
garrison. The Indians quickly sheltered themselves, and 
the action became more cautious and deliberate. Finding 
but little effect from the fire of his men, Duquesne next re- 
sorted to a more formidable mode of attack. The fort stood 
on the south, bank of the river, within sixty yards of the wa- 
ter. Commencing under the bank, where their operations 
w r ere concealed from the garrison, they attempted to push a 
mine into the fort. Their object, however, was fortunately 
discovered by the quantity of fresh earth which they were 
compelled to throw into the river, and by which the water be- 
came muddy for some distance below. Boone, who had re- 
gained his usual sagacity, instantly cut a trench within the 
fort in such a manner as to intersect the line of their ap- 
proach, and thus frustrated their design. The enemy ex- 
hausted all the ordinary artifices of Indian warfare, but 
were steadily repulsed in every effort. Finding their num- 
bers daily thinned by the deliberate but fatal fire of the gar- 
rison, and seeing no prospect of final success, they broke 
up on the ninth day of the siege, and returned home. The 
loss of the garrison, was two men killed and four wounded. 
On the part of the savages, thirty seven were killed and ma, 
ny wounded, who, as usual, were all carried off. This was 
the last siege sustained by Boonsborough. The country had 
increased so rapidly in numbers, and so many other stations- 
lay between Boonsborough and the Ohio, that the savages 
could not reach it, without leaving enemies in the rear. 

In the autumn of this year, Boone returned to North Car- 
olina for his wife and family, who, as already observed, had 
supposed him dead, and returned to her father. There is a 
hint in Mr. Marshall's history, that the family affairs which 
detained him in North Carolina, were of an unpleasant char- 
acter, but no explanation is given. 

In the summer of 1780, he returned to Kentucky withhk 



WESTERN ADVEJTTURE 65 

family, and settled at Boonsborough. Here he continued 
busily engaged upon his farm until the 6th of October, when, 
accompanied by his brother, he went to the Lower Blue 
Licks, for the purpose of providing himself with salt. This 
spot seemed fatal to Boone. Here, he had once leen taken 
prisoner by the Indians, and here he was destined, within 
two years, to loose his youngest son, and to witness the slaugh- 
ter of many of his dearest friends. His present visit was not 
free from calamity. Upon their return, they were encoun- 
tered by a party of Indians, and his brother, who had accom- 
panied him faithfully through many years of toil and dan- 
ger, was killed and scalped before his eyes. Unable either 
to prevent or avenge his death, Boone was compelled to fly, 
and by his superior knowledge of the country, contrived to 
elude his pursuers. They followed his trail, however, by 
the scent of a dog, that pressed him closely, and prevented 
his concealing himself. This was one of the most critical 
moments of his life, but his usual coolness and fortitude en- 
abled him to meet it. He halted until the dog, baling loud- 
ly upon his trail, came within gunshot, when he deliberately 
turned and shot him dead. The thickness of the woods and 
the approach of darkness, then enabled him to effect his es- 
cape. 

During the following year, Boonsborough enjoyed uninter- 
rupted tranquility. The country had become comparative- 
ly thickly settled, and was studded with fortresses in every 
direction. Fresh emigrants with their families were con- 
stantly arriving; and many young unmarried women, (who 
had heretofore been extremely scarce,) had ventured to risk 
themselves in Kentucky. They could not have selected a 
spot, where their merit was more properly appreciated, and 
were disposed of very rapidly to the young hunters, most of 
whom had hitherto, from necessity, remained bachelor?. 
Thriving settlements had been pushed beyond the Kentucky 

6* 



66 



SKETCHES OF 



river, and a number of houses had been built where Lexing^ 
ton now stands. 

The year 1781 passed away in perfect tranquility, and 
judging from appearances, nothing was more distant, than the 
terrible struggle which awaited them. But during the whole 
of this year, the Indians were meditating a desperate effort, 
to crush the settlements at a single blow. They had become 
seriously alarmed at the tide of emigration, which rolled o- 
ver the country, and threatened to convert their favorite hun- 
ting ground into one vast cluster of villages. The game 
had already been much dispersed, the settlers originally weak 
and scattered over the south side of the Kentucky river, had 
now become numerous, and were rapidly extending to the 
Ohio. One vigorous and united effort might still crush their 
enemies, and regain for themselves the undisputed posses- 
sion of the western forests. A few renegado white men, 
were mingled with them, and inflamed their wild passions, 
by dwelling upon the injuries which they had ever sustained 
at the hands of the whites, and of the necessity for instant 
and vigorous exertion, or of an eternal surrender of every 
hope either of redress or vengeance. Among these the most 
remarkable was Simon Girty. Runners were despatched to 
most of the north western tribes, and all were exhorted to 
lay aside private jealousy, and unite in a common cause a- 
gainst these white intruders. In the mean time, the settlers 
were busily employed in opening farms, marrying and giv- 
ing in marriage, totally ignorant of the storm which was 
gathering upon the Lakes. 

In the spring of 1782, after a long interval of repose, they 
were harrassed by small parties, who preceded the main bo 
dy, as the pattering and irregular drops of rain, are the pre- 
cursors of the approaching storm. In the month of May, a 
party of twenty five Wyandots, secretly approached EstilFs 
station, and committed shocking outrages in its vicinity. En- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 67 

tering a cabin, which stood apart from the rest, they seized 
a woman and her two daughters, who having been violated 
with circumstances of savage barbarity, were tomahawked 
and scalped. Their bodies, yet warm and bleeding, were 
found upon the floor of the cabin. The neighborhood was 
instantly alarmed. Capt. Estill speedily collected a body of 
twenty five men, aud pursued their trail with great rapidity. 
He came up with them on Hinkston fork of Licking, imme- 
diately after they had crossed it, and a most severe and des- 
perate conflict ensued. The Indians, at first appeared daun- 
ted and began to fly, but their chief, who was badly wound- 
ed by the first fire, was heard in a loud voice, ordering 
them to stand and return the fire, which was instantly obey- 
ed. The creek ran between the two parties, and prevented 
a charge on either side, without the certainty of great loss. 
The parties, therefore, consisting of precisely the same 
number, formed an irregular line, within fifty yards of each 
other, and sheltering themselves behind trees or logs, they 
fired with deliberation, as an object presented itself. The 
only manoeuvre, which the nature of the ground permitted, 
was to extend their lines in such a manner as to uncover the 
flank of the enemy, and even this was extremely dangerous, 
as every motion exposed them to a close and deadly fire. 
The action, therefore was chiefly stationary, neither party 
advancing or retreating, and every individual acting for 
himself. It had already lasted more than an hour, with- 
out advantage on either side or any prospect of its termina- 
tion. Capt. Estill had lost one third of his men, and had in- 
flicted about an equal loss upon his enemies, who still boldly 
maintained their ground, and returned his fire with equal 
spirit. To have persevered in the Indian mode of fighting, 
would have exposed his party to certain death, one by one, 
unless all the Indians should be killed first, who, however, 
had at least an equal chance with himself. Even victory, 



68 SKETCHES OF 

bought at such a price, would have afforded but a melan- 
choly triumph; yet it was impossible to retreat or advance 
without exposing his men to the greatest danger. After 
coolly revolving these reflections in his mind, and observing 
that the enemy exhibited no symptoms of discouragement. 
Capt> Estill determined to detach a party of six men, under 
Lieut. Miller, with orders to cross the creek above, and take 
the Indians in flank, while he maintained his ground, ready 
to co-operate, as circumstances might require. But he had 
to deal with an enemy equally bold and sagacious. The In- 
dian chief was quickly aware of the division of the force 
opposed to him, from the slackening of the fire in front, and 
readily conjecturing his object, he determined to frustrate it 
by crossing the creek with his whole force, and overwhelming 
Estill, now weakened by the absence of Miller. The ma- 
noeuvre was bold and masterly, and was executed with de- 
termined courage. Throwing themselves into the water, 
they fell upon Estill with the tomahawk, and drove him be- 
fore them with slaughter. Miller's party retreated with 
precipitation, and even lie under the reproach of deserting 
their friends, and absconding, instead of occupying the de- 
signated ground. Others contradict this statement, and af- 
firm that Miller punctually executed his orders, crossed the 
creek, and falling in with the enemy, was compelled to retire 
with loss. We think it probable, that the Indians rushed up- 
on Estill, as above mentioned, and having defeated him, re- 
crossed the creek and attacked Miller, thus cutting up their 
enemy in detail. Estill's party finding themselves furiously 
charged, and receiving no assistance from Miller, who was 
probably at that time on the oilier side of the creek, in the 
execution of his orders, would naturally consider themselves 
deserted, and when a clamor of that kind is once raised a- 
gainst a man, (particularly in a defeat,) the voice of reason 
«an no longer be heard. Some scapegoat is always neces- 



WESTERN ADVENTUKE. 69 

sarv. The broken remains of the detachment returned to the 
station, and filled the country with consternation and alarm, 
greatly disproportioned to the extent of the loss. The brave 
Estill witheighfrof his men had fallen, and four more were 
wounded, more than half of their original number. 

This, notwithstanding the smallness of the numbers, is a 
v^ery remarkable action, and perhaps, more honorable to the 
Indians than any other one on record. The numbers, the 
arms, the courage and the position of the parties were equal- 
Both were composed of good marksmen, and skilful woods- 
men. There was no surprise, no panic, nor any particular 
accident, according to the most probable account which de- 
cided the action. A delicate manoeuvre, on the part of Es- 
till, gave an advantage, which was promptly seized by the 
Indian chief, and a bold and masterly movement decided the 
fate of the day. The great battles of Austerlitz and Wa- 
gram, exhibit the same error on the part of one commander, 
and the same decisive and successful step on the part of the 
other. The Arch Duke Charles extended his line to take 
the French in flank, and thereby weakened his centre, which 
was instantly broken by a rapid charge of the whole French 
army. No movement seems more delicate and dangerous 
than that of Estill, and the first great check which Bonoparte 
received, (that of Eylan,) was chiefly occasioned by weak- 
ening his front in order to assail the enemy in rear. It re- 
quires, however, great boldness and promptitude in the op- 
posite leader, to take advantage of it. A cautious and wary 
leader, will be apt to let the golden opportunity pass away, 
until the detachment has reached his flank, and it is then too 
late. The English military critics, censure our Washing- 
ton for hesitation of this kind at Brandy wine. They say, 
that when the detachment of Cornwallis, was absent on its 
march to take the Americans in flank, Washington should 
have crossed with his whole force, and have fallen upon 



70 SKETCHES OF 

Kniphausen. Lee says that such a manoeuvre was contem- 
plated, but was prevented by false intelligence. 

The news of EstilPs disaster, was quickly succeeded by 
another, scarcely less startling to the alarmed settlers. Cap- 
tain Holder, at the head of seventeen men, pursued a party 
of Indians who had taken two boys from the neighborhood 
of Hoy's station. He overtook them after a rapid pursuit, 
and in the severe action which ensued, was repulsed with the 
loss of more than half his party. The tide of success seem- 
ed completely turned in favor of the Indians. They tra- 
versed the woods in every direction, sometimes singly, some- 
times in small parties, and kept the settlers in constant a- 
larm. 

At length, early in August, the grand effort was made. 
The allied Indian army, composed of detachments from near- 
ly all the northwestern tribes, and amounting to nearly six 
hundred men, commenced their march from Chillicothe, un- 
der the command of their respective chiefs, aided and influ- 
enced by Girty, McKee and other renegado white men. 
With a secrecy and celerity peculiar to themselves, they ad- 
vanced through the woods without giving the slightest indi- 
cations of their approach, and on the night of the 14th of 
August, they appeared before Bryant's station, as suddenly 
as if they had risen from the earth, and surrounding it on all 
sides, calmly awaited the approach of daylight, holding them- 
selves in readiness to rush in upon the inhabitants the mo- 
ment that the gates were opened in the morning. The su- 
preme influence of fortune in war, was never more strikingly 
displayed. The garrison had determined to march at day- 
light on the following morning, to the assistance of Hoy's 
station, from which a messenger had arrived the evening be- 
fore, with the intelligence of Holder's defeat. Had the In- 
dians arrived only a few hours later, they would have found 
the fort occupied only by old men, women and children, ..who* 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 7} 

could not have resisted their attack for a moment. As it 
^was, they found the garrison assembled and under arms, 
most of them busily engaged throughout the whole night, m 
preparing for an early march on the following morning. 
The Indians could distinctly hear the bustle of preparation, 
and . see lights glancing from block houses and cabins during 
the night, which must have led them to suspect that their ap- 
proach had been discovered. All continued tranquil during 
the night, and Girty silently concerted the plan of attack. 

The fort, consisting of about forty cabins placed in paral- 
lel lines, stands upon a gentle rise on the southern bank of the 
Elkhorn, a few paces to the right of the road from Maysville 
to Lexington, The garrison were supplied with water from 
a spring at some distance from the fort on its Northwestern 
ide — agreaterror, common to most of the stations, which, in 
a close and long continued siege, must have suffered dread- 
fully for w T ant of water. 

The great body of Indians placed themselves in ambush 
within half rifle shot of the spring, while one hundred select 
men were placed near the spot where the road now runs after 
passing the creek, with orders to open a brisk fire and show 
themselves to the garrison on that side, for the purpose of 
drawing them out, while the main body held themselves in 
readiness to rush upon the opposite gate of the fort, hew it 
down with their tomahawks, and force their way into tire 
midst of the cabins. At dawn of day, the garrison paraded 
under arms, and were preparing to open their gates and 
march off as already mentioned, when they were alarmed by 
a furious discharge of rifles, accompanied with yells and 
screams, which struck terror to the hearts of the women and 
children, and startled even the mem All ran hastily to the 
picketing, and beheld a small party of Indians, exposed to 
open view, firing, yelling and making the most furious ges- 
tures. The appearance was so singular, and so different 



72 SKETCHES OF 

from their usual manner of fighting, that some of the more 
wary and experienced of the garrison, instantly pronounced 
it a decoy party, and restrained the young men from sallying 
out and attacking them, as some of them were strongly dis- 
posed to do. The opposite side of the fort was instantly 
manned, and several breaches in the picketing rapidly re- 
paired. Thei>* greatest distress arose from the prospect of 
suffering for water. The more experienced of the garrison 
felt satisfied that a powerful party was in ambuscade near 
the spring, but at the same time they supposed that the Indi- 
ans would not unmask themselves, until the firing upon the 
opposite side of the fort was returned with such warmth, as 
to induce the belief that the feint had succeeded. Acting 
upon this impression, and yielding to the urgent necessity of 
the case, they summoned all the women without exception, 
and explaining to them the circumstances in which they were 
placed, and the improbability that any injury would be offer- 
ed them, until the firing had been returned from the oppo- 
site side of the fort, they urged them to go in a body to the 
spring, and each to bring up a bucket full of water. Some 
of the ladies, as was natural, had no relish for the underta- 
king, and asked why the men could not bring water as well 
as themselves! observing that they were not bullet proof, 
and that the Indians made no distinction between male and 
female scalps! To this it was answered, that women were 
in the habit of bringing water every morning to the fort, and 
that if the Indians saw them engaged as usual, it would in- 
duce them to believe that their ambuscade was undiscovered f 
and that they would not unmask themselves for the sake of 
firing at a fe,w women, when they hoped, by remaining con- 
cealed a few moments longer, to oblain complete possession 
of the fort. That if men should go down to the spring, th« 
Indians would immediately suspect that something was 
wrong, would despair of succeeding by ambuscade, and 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 73 

would instantly rush upon them, follow them into the fort, 
or shoot them down at the spring* The decision was sooa 
over. A few of the boldest declared their readiness to brave 
the danger, and the younger and more timid rallying in the 
rear of these veterans, they all marched down in a body to 
the spring, within point blank shot of more than five hun- 
dred Indian warriors ! Some of the girls could not help be- 
traying symptoms of terror, but the married women, in gene- 
ral, moved with a steadiness and composure, which com- 
pletely deceived the Indians. Not a shot was fired. The 
party were permitted to fill their buckets, one after another, 
without interruption, and although their steps became quick- 
er and quicker, on their return, and when near the gate of 
the fort, degenerated into a rather unmilitary celerity, atten- 
ded with some little crowding in passing the gate, yet not 
more than one fifth of the water was spilled, and the eyes of 
the youngest had not dilated to more than double their ordi- 
nary size. 

Being now amply supplied with water, they sent out thir- 
teen young men to attack the decoy party, with orders to fire 
with great rapidity, and make as much noise as possible, 
but not to pursue the enemy too far, while the rest of the 
garrison took post on the opposite side of the fort, cocked 
their guns, and stood in readiness to receive the ambuscade 
as soon as it was unmasked. The firing of the light parties 
on the Lexington road was soon heard, and quickly became 
sharp and serious, gradually becoming more distant from the 
fort. Instantly, Girty sprung up at the head of his five hun- 
dred warriors, and rushed rapidly upon the western gate, 
ready to force his way over the undefended palisades. In- 
to this immense mass of dusky bodies, the garrison poured 
several rapid vollies of rifle balls with destructive effect. 
Their consternation may be imagined. With wild cries 
they dispersed on the right and left, and in two minutes not 

7 



74 SKETCHES OF 

an Indian was to be seen. At the same time, the party who 
had sallied out on the Lexington road, came running into the 
fort at the opposite gate in high spirits, and laughing heartily 
at the success of their manoeuvre. 

A regular attack, in the usual manner, then commenced, 
without much effect on either side, until two o'clock in the 
afternoon, when a new scene presented itself. Upon the 
first appearance of the Indians in the morning, two of the 
garrison, Tomlinson and Bell, had been mounted upon fleet 
horses, and sent at full speed to Lexington, announcing the 
arrival of the Indians and demanding reinforcements. Up- 
on their arrival, a little after sunrise, they found the town oc- 
cupied only by women and children, and a few old men, the 
rest having marched at the intelligence of Holder's defeat, 
to the general rendezvous at Hoy's station. The two couri- 
ers instantly followed at a gallop, and overtaking them on 
the road, informed them of the danger to which Lexington 
was exposed during their absence. The whole party, a- 
mounting to sixteen horsemen and more than double that 
number on foot, with some additional volunteers from Boone's 
station, instantly countermarched, and repaired with all pos- 
sible expedition to Bryant's station. They were entirely 
ign' rant of the overwhelming numbers opposed to them, or 
they would have proceeded with more caution. Tomlinson 
had only informed them that the station was surrounded, be- 
ing himself ignorant of the numbers of the enemy. By 
great exertions, horse and foot appeared before Bryant's at 
two in the afternoon, and pressed forward with precipitate 
gallantry to throw themselves into the fort. The Indians, 
however, had been aware of the departure of the two cou- 
riers, who had, in fact, broken through their line in order to 
give the alarm, and expecting the arrival of reinforcements, 
had taken measures to meet them. 

To the left of the long and narrow lane, where the Mays- 



WESTERN ADVENTUBE. 75 

ville and Lexington road now runs, there were more than 
one hundred acres of green standing corn. The usual road 
from Lexington to Bryant's, ran parallel to the fence of this 
field, and only a few feet distant from it. On the opposite 
side of the road was a thick wood. Here, more than three 
hundred Indians lay in ambush, within pistol shot of the 
road, awaiting the approach of the party. The horsemen 
came in view at a time when the firing had ceased and eve- 
ry thing was quiet. Seeing no enemy, and hearing no noise, 
they entered the lane at a gallop, and were instantly salu- 
ted with a shower of rifle balls, from each side at the dis- 
tance of ten paces. At the first shot, the whole party set 
spurs to their horses, and rode at full speed through a rolling 
fire from either side, which continued for several hundred 
yards, but owing partly to the furious rate at which they rode, 
partly to the clouds of dust raised by the horses feet, they 
all entered the fort unhurt. The men on foot were less for- 
tunate. They were advancing through the cornfield, and 
might have reached the fort in safety, but for their eagerness 
to succor their friends. Without reflecting, that from the 
weight and extent of the fire, the enemy must have been 
ten times their number, they ran up with inconsiderate cour- 
age, to the spot where the firing was heard, and there found 
themselves cut off from the fort, and within pistol shot of 
more than three hundred savages. Fortunately, the Indian 
guns had just been discharged, and they had not yet had 
leisure to reload. At the sight of this brave body of foot- 
men, however, they raised a hideous yell, and rushed upon 
them, tomahawk in hand. Nothing but the high corn and 
their loaded rifles, could have saved them from destruction. 
The Indians were cautious in rushing upon a loaded rifle, 
with only a tomahawk, and when they halted to load their 
pieces, the Kentuckians ran with great rapidity, turning and 
dodging through the corn in every direction. Some entered 



76 SKETCHES OF 

the wood and escaped through the thickets of cane, some 
were shot down in the cornfield, others maintained a run- 
ning fight, halting occasionally behind trees and keeping 
the enemy at bay with their rifles, for of all men, the In- 
dians are generally the most cautious in exposing themselves 
to danger. A stout, active young fellow, was so hard pres- 
sed by Girty and several savages, that he was compelled to 
discharge his rifle, (however unwillingly, having no time 
to re-load it,) and Girty fell. It happened, however, that 
a piece of thick soal leather was in his shot pouch at the 
time, which received the ball, and preserved his life, although 
the force of the blow felled him to the ground. The sava- 
ges halted upon his fall, and the young man escaped. Al- 
though the skirmish and race lasted for more than an hour, 
during which the cornfield presented a scene of turmoil 
and bustle which can scarcely be conceived, yet very 
few lives were lost. Only six of the white men were 
killed and wounded, and probably still fewer of the enemy, 
as the whites never fired until absolutely necessary, but re- 
served their loads as a check upon the enemy. Had the In- 
dians pursued them to Lexington, they might have possess- 
ed themselves of it without resistance, as there was no force 
there to oppose them ; but after following the fugitives for a 
few hundred yards, they returned to the hopeless siege of the - 
fort. 

It was now near sunset, and the fire on both sides had 
slackened. The Indians had become discouraged. Their 
loss in the morning had been heavy, and the country was ev- 
idently arming, and would soon be upon them. They had 
made no impression upon the fort, and without artillery could 
hope to make none. The chiefs spoke of raising the siege 
and decamping, but Girty determined, since his arms had 
been unavailing, to try the efficacy of negotiation. Near 
one of the bastions there was a large stump, to which he 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 77 

crept on his hands and knees, and from which he hailed the 
garrison. "He highly commended their courage, but assur- 
ed them, that further resistance would be madness, as he had 
six hundred warriors with him, and was in hourly expecta- 
tion of reinforcements, with artillery? which would instantly 
blow their cabins into the air; that if the fort was taken by 
storm, as it certainly would be, when their cannon arrived, 
it would be impossible for him to save their lives; but if the\ 
surrendered at once, he gave them his honor, that not a hair 
of their heads should be injured. He told them his name, 
enquired whether they knew him, and assured them, that 
they might safely trust to his honor. 1 ' The garrison listened 
in silence to his speech, and many of them looked very blank 
at the mention of the artillery, as the Indians had, on one oc- 
casion, brought cannon with them, and destroyed two sta- 
tions. But a young man by the name of Ile^/nolds, highly 
distinguished for courage, energy, and a frolicksome gaiety of 
temper, perceiving the effect of Girty's speech, took upon 
himself to reply to it. To Girty's enquiry of "whether the 
garrison knew him?"' Reynolds replied, "that he was very 
well known — that he himself, had a worthless dog, to which 
he had given the name of "Simon Girty," in consequence 
of his striking resemblance to the man of that name. That 
if he had either artillery or reinforcements, he might bring 

them up and be . That if either himself or any of 

the naked rascals with him, found their way into the fort % 
they would disdain to use their guns against them, but would 
drive them out again with switches, of which they had col- 
lected a great number for that purpose alone; and finally, lie 
declared, that they aiso expected reinforcements — that the 
whole country was marching to their assistance, and that if 
Girty and his gang of murderers remained twenty four hours 
longer before the fort, their scalps would be found drying in 
the sun upon the roof of their cabins i? Girty took great of- 

7* 



78 SKETCHES OF 

fence at the tone and language of the young Kentuekian f 
and retired with an expression of sorrow for the inevitable 
destruction which awaited them on the following morning. 
He quickly rejoined the chiefs, and instant preparations were 
made for raising the siege. The night passed away in un- 
interrupted tranquil ity r and at daylight in the morning, the 
Indian camp was found deserted. Fires were still burning 
brightly, and several pieces of meat were left upon their 
roasting sticks, from which it was inferred that they had re- 
treated a short time before daylight. 

Early in the d ay T reinforcements began to drop in, and by 
noon, one hundred and sixty seven men were assembled at 
Bryant's station. Col. Daniel Boone, accompanied by his 
youngest son, headed a strong party from Boonsborough ; 
Trigg brought up the force from the neighborhood of Har- 
rodsburgh, and Todd commanded the militia around Lexing- 
ton. Nearly a third of the whole number assembled, was 
composed of commisioned officers, who hurried from a dis- 
tance to the scene of hostilities, and for the time took their 
station in the ranks. Of those under the rank of Colonel, 
the most conspicuous were, Majors Harland, McBride, Mc- 
Gary, and Levy Todd, and Captains Bulger and Gordon. 
Of the six last named officers, all fell in the subsequent bat- 
tle, except Todd and McGary. Todd and Trigg, as senior 
Colonels, took the command, although their authority seems 
to have been in a great measure nominal. That, however, 
was of less consequence, as a sense of common danger is of- 
ten more binding than the strictest discipline. A tumultuous 
consultation, in which every one seems to have had a voice, 
terminated in a unanimous resolution to pursue the enemy 
without delay. It was well known that General Logan had 
collected a strong force in Lincoln, and would join them at 
farthest in twenty four hours. It was distinctly understood 
that the enemy was at least double, and, according to Gir- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 79 

ty's accountj more than treble their own numbers. It was 
seen that their trail was broad and obvious, and that e\ew 
some indications of a tardiness and willingness to be pursu- 
ed, had been observed by their scouts, who had been sent 
out to reconnoitre^ and from which it might reasonably be 
inferred that they would halt on the way — at least march so 
leisurely as to permit them to wait for the aid of Logan! Yet 
so keen was the ardor of officer and soldier, that all these ob- 
vious reasons were overlooked, and in the afternoon of the 
18th of August, the line of march was taken up, and the 
pursuit urged with that precipitate courage which has so of- 
ten been fatal to Kentuckians. Most of the officers and ma- 
ny of the privates were mounted. 

The Indians had followed the buffalo trace r and as if to 
render their trail still more evident, they had chopped many 
of the trees on each side of the road with their hatchets. 
These stong indications of tardiness, made some impression 
upon the cool and calculating mind of Boone, but it was too 
late to advise retreat. They encamped that night in the 
woods y and on the following day reached the fatal boundary 
of their pursuit! At the Lower Blue Licks, for the first 
time since the pursuit commenced, they came within view 
of an enemy. As the miscellaneous crowd of horse and 
foot reached the southern bank of Licking, they saw a num- 
ber of Indians ascending the rocky ridge on the other side, 
They halted upon the appearance of the Kentuckians, gaz- 
ed at them for a few moments in silence,, and then calmly 
and leisurely disappeared over the top of the hill. A halt 
immediately ensued. A dozen or twenty officers met in 
front of the ranks, and entered into consultation. The wild 
and lonely aspect of the country around them, their dis- 
tance from any point of support^with the certainty of their 
being in the presence of a superior enemy, seems to have in- 
spired a portion of seriousness bordering upon awe. All 



80 SKETCHES OF 

eyes were now turned upon Boone, and Col, Todd asked his 
opinion as to what should be done. The veteran wooda^ 
man, with his usual unmoved gravity, replied, "that their 
situation was critical and delicate — -that the force opposed to 
them was undoubtedly numerous and ready for battle, as 
might readily be seen from the leisurely retreat of the few In- 
dians who had appeared upon the crest of the hill: that he 
was well acquainted with the ground in the neighborhood of 
the Lick, and was apprehensive that an ambuscade was form- 
ed at the distance of a mile in advance, where two ravines, 
one upon each side of the ridge, ran in such a manner, that 
a concealed enemy might assail them at once both in front and 
flank, before they were apprised of the danger. It would 
be proper, therefore, to do one of two things. Either to a- 
wait the arrival of Logan, who was now undoubtedly on his 
march to join them, or if it was determined to attack without 
delay, that one half of their number should march up the 
river, which there bends in an elliptical form, cross at the 
rapids, and fall upon the rear of the enemy, while the other 
division attacked in front. At any rate, he strongly urged 
the necessity of reconnoitering the ground carefully before 
the main body crossed the river." Such was the counsel of 
Boone. And although no measure could have been much 
more disastrous than that which was adopted, yet it may be 
doubted if any thing short of an immediate retreat upon 
Logan, could have saved this gallant body of men from the 
fate which they encountered. If they divided their force, 
the enemy, as in EstilPs case, might have overwhelmed them 
in detail — if they remained where they were, without ad- 
vancing, the enemy would certainly have attacked them, 
probably in the night, and with a certainty of success. They 
had committed a great error at first in not waiting for Lo- 
gan, and nothing short of a retreat, which would have been 
considered disgraceful, could now repair it. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 81 

Boone was heard in silence and with deep attention. Some 
wished to adopt the first plan — others preferred the second, 
and the discussion threatened to be drawn out to some length, 
when the boiling ardor of McGary, who could never endure 
the presence of an enemy without instant battle, stimulated 
him to an act, which had nearly proved destructive to his 
country. He suddenly interrupted the consultation with a 
loud whoop, resembling the war cry of the Indians, spurred 
his horse into the stream, waved his hat over his head and 
shouted aloud, "let all who are not cowards follow me !" The 
words and the action together, produced an electrical effect. 
The mounted men dashed tumultously into the river, each 
striving to be foremost. The footmen were mingled with 
them in one rolling and irregular mass. No order was giv- 
en and none observed. They struggled through a deep ford 
as well as they could, McGary still leading the van, closely 
followed by Majors Harland and McBride. With the same 
rapidity they ascended the ridge, which, by the trampling of 
buffalo forages, had been stripped bare of all vegetation, with 
the exception of a few dwarfish cedars, and which was ren- 
dered still more desolate in appearance, by the multitude of 
rocks, blackened by the sun, which were spread over its sur- 
face. Upon reaching the top of the ridge, they followed the 
buffalo trace with the same precipitate ardor — Todd and 
Trigg in the rear; McGary, Harland, McBride and Boone 
in front. No scouts were sent in advance — none explored 
either flank— officers and soldiers seemed alike demented by 
the contagious example of a single man, and all struggled 
forward, horse and foot, as if to outstrip each other in the 
advance. 

Suddenly, the van halted. They had reached the spot 
mentioned by Boone, where the two ravines head, on each 
side of the ridge. Here a body of Indians presented them- 
selves, and attacked the van, McGary's party instantly re- 



82 SKETCHES OF 

turned the fire, but under great disadvantage. They were 
upon a bare and open ridge— the Indians in a bushy ravine. 
The centre and rear, ignorant of the ground, hurried up to 
the assistance of the van, but were soon stopped by a terri- 
ble fire from the ravine which flanked them. They found 
themselves enclosed as if in the wings of a net, destitute of 
proper shelter, while the enemy were in a great measure 
covered from their fire. Still, however, they maintained 
their ground. The action became warm and bloody. The 
parties gradually closed, the Indians emerged from the ra- 
vine, and the fire became mutually destructive. The offi- 
cers suffered dreadfully. Todd and Trigg, in the rear- 
Harland, McBride and young Boone, in front, were already 
killed. The Indians gradually extended their line,, to turn 
the right of the Kentuckians, and cutoff their retreat. This 
was quickly perceived by the weight of the fire from that 
quarter, and the rear instantly fell back in disorder, and at- 
tempted to rush through their only opening to the river. 
The motion quickly communicated itself to the van, and a 
hurried retreat became general. The Indians instantly 
sprung forward in pursuit, and falling upon them with their 
tomahawks, made a cruel slaughter. From the battle ground 
to the river, the spectacle was terrible. The horsemen gen- 
erally escaped, but the foot, particularly the van, which had 
advanced farthest within the wings of the net, were almost 
totally destroyed. Ool. Boone, after witnessing the death of 
his son and many of his dearest friends, found himself almost 
entirely surrounded at the very commencement of the re- 
treat. Several hundred Indians were between him and the 
ford, to which the great mass of the fugitives were bending 
their flight, and to which the attention of the savages was 
principally directed. Being intimately acquainted with the 
ground, he, together with a few friends, dashed into the ra- 
vine which the Indians had occupied, but which most of 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 83 

them had now left to join in the pursuit. After sustaining 
one or two heavy fires, and baffling one or two small par- 
ties, who pursued him for a short distance, he crossed the 
river below the ford, by swimming, and entering the wood at 
a point where there was no pursuit, returned by a circuitous 
route to Bryant's station. In the mean time, the great mass 
of the victors and vanquished crowded the bank of the ford. 
The slaughter was great in the river. The ford was crowe 
ded with horsemen and foot and Indians, all mingled together. 
Some were compelled to seek a passage above by swimming 
-some, who could could not swim, were overtaken and kil- 
led at the edge of the water. A man by the name of Neth- 
erland, who had formerly been strongly suspected of cow- 
ardice, here displayed a coolness and presence of mind, 
equally noble and unexpected. Being finely mounted, he had 
outstripped the great mass of fugitives, and crossed the river 
in safety, A dozen or twenty horsemen accompanied him, 
and having placed the river between them and the enemy* 
showed a disposition to continue their flight, without regard 
to the safety of their friends who were on foot and still strug- 
gling with the current. Netherland instantly checked his 
horse, and in a loud voice, called upon his companions to 
halt ! — fire upon the Indians, and save those who were still 
in the stream. The party instantly obeyed — and facing a- 
bout, poured a close and fatal discharge of rifles upon the 
foremost of the pursuers. The enemy instantly fell back 
from the opposite bank, and gave time for the harrassed and 
miserable footmen to cross in safety. The check, however, 
was but momentary. Indians were seen crossing in great 
numbers above and below, and the flight again became gen 
eral. Most of the foot left the great buffalo track, and plun- 
ging into the thickets, escaped by a circuitous route to Bry- 
ant's. 
But little loss was sustained after crossing the river, al- 



84 SKETCHES OP 

though the pursuit was urged keenly for twenty miles. From 
the battle ground to the ford, the loss was very heavy ; and 
at that stage of the retreat, there occurred a rare and stri- 
king instance of magnanimity, which it would be criminal 
to omit The reader cannot have forgotten young Rey- 
nolds, who replied with such rough but ready humor to the 
pompous summons of Girty, at the siege of Bryant's ! This 
young man, after bearing his share in the action with dis- 
tinguished gallantry, was galloping with several other horse- 
men in order to reach the ford. The great body of fugitives 
had preceded them, and their situation was in the highest 
degree critical and dangerous. About halfway between the 
battle ground and the river, the party overtook Capt. Patter- 
son on foot, exhausted by the rapidity of the flight, and in 
consequence of former wounds, received from the Indians, 
so infirm as to be unable to keep up with the main body of 
the men on foot. The Indians were close behind him, and 
his fate seemed inevitable. Reynolds, upon coming up with 
this brave officer, instantly sprung from his horse, aided Pat- 
terson to mount into the saddle, and continued his own flight 
on foot. Being remarkably active and vigorous, he contrived 
to elude his pursuers, and turning off from the main road, 
plunged into the river near the spot where Boone had cross 
ed, and swam in safety to the opposite side. Unfortunately, 
he wore a pair of buckskin breeches, which had become so 
heavy and full of water, as to prevent his exerting himself 
with his usual activity, and while sitting down for the pur- 
pose of pulling them off, he was overtaken by a party of In- 
dians and made prisoner. A prisoner is rarel} put to death 
by the Indians, unless wounded or infirm, until they return 
to their own country ; and then his fate is decided in solemn 
council. Young Reynolds, therefore, was treated kindly, 
and compelled to acompany his captors in the pursuit, 
small party of Kentuckians, soon attracted thfeir attention 



e 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 85 

and he was left in charge of three Indians, who* eager in 
pursuit, in turn committed him to the charge of one of their 
number, while they followed their companions. Reynolds 
and his guard jogged along very leisurely, the former totally 
unarmed — the latter with a tomahawk and rifle in his hands. 
At length the Indian stopped to tie his moccasin, when Rey- 
nolds instantly sprung upon him, knocked him down with 
his fist, and quickly disappeared in the thicket which sur- 
rounded them. For this act of generosity, Capt. Patterson 
afterwards made him a present of two hundred acres of first 
rate land. 

Late in the evening of the same day, most of the survi 
vors arrived at Bryant's station. The melancholy intelli- 
gence spread rapidly throughout the country, and the whole 
land was covered with mourning. Sixty men had been kil- 
led in the battle and flight, and seven had been taken pris- 
oners, of whom were afterwards put to death by the 
Indians, as was said, to make their loss even. This account, 
however, appears very improbable. It is almost incredible 
that the Indians should have suffered an equal loss. Their 
superiority of numbers, their advantage of position, (being 
in a great measure sheltered, while the Kentuckians, par- 
ticularly the horsemen, were much exposed,) the extreme bre- 
vitv of the battle, and the acknowledged bloodiness of the 
pursuit, all tend to contradict the report that the Indian loss 
exceeded ours. We have no doubt that some of the prison- 
ers were murdered, after arriving at their towns, but cannot 
believe that the reason assigned for so ordinary a piece of 
barbarity was the true one! Still the execution done hy the 
Kentuckians, while the battle lasted, seems to have been 
considerable, al hough far inferior to the loss which they 
themselves sustained. Todd and Trigg were a severe loss 
to their families and to the country general!} 7 . They were 
men of a rank in life superior to the ordinary class of set 

8 



86 SKETCHES OF 

tiers, and generally esteemed for courage, probity and intel- 
ligence. The death of Major Harland was deeply and uni- 
versally regretted. A keen courage, united to a temper 
the most amiable, and an integrity the most incorruptible, 
had rendered him extremely popular in the country. To- 
gether with his friend McBride, he accompanied McGary in 
the van, and both fell in the commencement of the action. 
McGary, notwithstanding the extreme exposure of his sta- 
tion, as leader of the van, and consequently most deeply in- 
volved in the ranks of the enemy, escaped without the slight- 
est injury. This gentleman will ever be remembered, as as- 
sociated with the disaster of which he was the immediate, 
although not the original cause. He has always been rep- 
resented as a. man of fiery and daring courage, strongly 
tinctured with ferocity, and unsoftened by any of the hu- 
mane and gentle qualities, which awaken affection. In the 
hour of battle, his presence was invaluable, but in civil 
life, the ferocity of his temper rendered him an unpleasant 
companion. 

Several years after the battle of the Blue Licks, a gen- 
tleman of Kentucky, since dead, fell in company with Mc- 
Gary atone of the circuit courts, and the conversation soon 
turned upon the battle. McGary frankly acknowledged 
that he, himself, was the immediate cause of the less of blood 
on that day, and with great heat and energy, assigned his 
reasons for urging on the battle. He said, that in the hur- 
ried council which was held at Bryant's on the 18th, he hadl 
strenuously urged Todd and Trigg to halt for twenty four I 
hours, assuring them, that with the aid of Logan, they would! 
be able to follow them even to Chillicothe if necessary, andl 
that their numbers then, were too weak to encounter theml 
alone ! He offered, he said, to pledge his head, that the In-I 
dians would not return with such precipitation as was sup-l 
jvosed, but would afford ample time to collect more force, audi 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 87 

give them battle with a prospect of success. He added, 
that Col. Todd scouted his arguments, and declared "that 
if a single day was lost, the Indians would never be 
overtaken — but, would cross the Ohio and disperse; that 
now was the time to strike them while they were in a 
body — that to talk of their numbers was nonsense — the more 
the merrier! — that for his part he was determined to pursue 
without a moment's delay, and did not doubt that there- 
were brave men enough on the ground, to enable him to at- 
tack them with effect." McGary declared "that he feh 
somewhat nettled at the manner in which his advice had 
been received; that he thought Todd and Trigg jealous of 
Logan, who, as senior Colonel, would be entitled to the com- 
mand upon his arrival ; and, that, in their eagerness to have 
the honor of the victory to themselves, they were rashly 
throwing themselves into a condition, which would endan- 
ger the safety of the country. "However, sir," continued 
he, with an air of unamiable triumph, "when I saw the gen- 
tlemen so keen for a fight, I gave way, and joined in the 
pursui f , as willingly as any; but when we came in sight of 
the enemy, and the gentlemen began to talk of "numbers,** 
"position," "Lf>gan," and "waiting," Iburstintoa passion, 

d d them for a set of cowards, who could not be wise 

until they were scared into it, and swore that since they had 
come se far for a fight — they should fight, or I would dis- 
grace them for ever! That when I spoke of waiting for 
Logan on the day before, they had scouted the idea, and 
hinted something about "Courage" — that now it would be 

shown who had courage, or who were d d cowards, that 

could talk big when the enemy w r as at a distance, but turn- 
ed pale when danger was near. I then dashed into the riv- 
er, and called upon all who were not cowards to follow !" 
The^gentleman upon whose authority this is given, added, 
that even then, McGary .spoke with bitterness of the de 



88 SKETCHES <H? 

ceased Colonels, and swore that they had received just 
what they deserved, and that he for one, was glad of it. 

That the charge of McGary, in its full extent, was unjust y . 
there can be no doubt; at the same time, it is in accordance 
with the known principles of human nature, to suppose that 
the natural ardor of the officers — both young men — -should 
be stimulated by the hope of gaining a victory, the honor 
of which would be given them as commanders. The num 
ber of the Indians was not distinctly known, and if their re- 
treat had been ordinarily precipitate, they would certainly 
have crossed the Ohio before Logan could have joined. But, 
leaving all the facts to speak for themselves,, we will pro 
ceed with our narrative. 

On the very day in which this rash and unfortunate bat- 
tie was fought, Col. Logan arrived at Bryant's station at the 
head of no less than four hundred and fifty men. He here 
learned that the little army had marched on the preceding 
day, without waiting for so strong and necessary a reinforce- 
ment. Fearful of some such disaster as had actually oc- 
curred, he urged his march with the utmost diligence, still 
hoping to overtake them before they could cross the Ohio; 
but within a few miles of the fort, he encountered the fore- 
most of the fugitives, whose jaded horses, and harrassed 
looks, announced but too plainly the event of the battle. 
As usual with men after a defeat, they magnified the number 
of the enemy and the slaughter of their comrades. None 
knew the actual extent of their loss. They could only be 
certain of their own escape, and could give no account of 
their companions. Fresh stragglers constantly came up, 
with the same mournful intelligence; so that Logan, after 
some hesitation, determined to return to Bryant's until all the 
survivors should come up. In the course of the evenings 
both horse and foot were re-assembled at Bryant's, and the 
loss was distinctly ascertained. Although sufficiently se- 



WESTERN VD VENTURE. 89 

rere, it was less than Logan had at first apprehended ; and 
having obtained all the information which could be collected, 
as to the strength and probable destination of the enemy, 
he determined to continue his march to the battleground; 
with the hope that success would embolden the enemy, and 
induce them to remain until his arrival. On the second day 
he reached the field. The enemy were gone, but the bodies 
of the Kentuckians still lay unburied, on the spot where 
they had tallen. Immense flocks of buzzards, were soaring- 
over the battle ground, and the bodies of the dead had be- 
come so much swollen and disfigured, that it was impossible 
to recognize the features of their most particular friends. 
Many corses were floating near the shore of the northern 
bank, already putrid from the action of the sun, and partial- 
ly eaten by fishes. The whole were carefully collected by 
order of Col. Logan, and interred as decently as the nature 
of the soil would permit. Being satisfied that the Indians 
were by this time far beyond his reach, he then retraced 
his steps to Bryant's station and dismissed his men. 

As soon as intelligence of the battle of the Blue Licks 
reached Cql. George Rogers Clark, who then resided at the 
Falls of Ohio, he determined to set on foot an expedition a- 
gainst the Indian towns, for the purpose, both of avenging 
the loss of tho battle, and rousing the spirit of the country, 
which had begun to sink into the deepest dejection. He 
proposed that one thousand men should be raised from all 
parts of Kentucky, and should rendezvous at Cincinnati, un- 
der the command of their respective officers, where he en- 
gaged to meet them at the head of a part of the Illinois re- 
giment, then under his command, together with one bras.-? 
field piece, which was regarded by the [ndians with supersti- 
tious terror. The offer was embraced with great alacrity ; 
and instant measures were taken for the collection of a suffi- 
cient number of volunteers,, 

8* 



90 SKETCHES OF 

The whole force of the interior, was assembled under (he 
command of Col. Logan, and descending the Licking in 
boats prepared for the purpose, arrived safely at the desig- 
nated point of union, where they were joined by Clark with 
the volunteers and regular detachment from below. Ncr 
provision was made for the subsistence of the troops, and the 
sudden concentration of one thousand men and horses upon 
a single point, rendered it extremely difficult to procure the 
necessary supplies. The woods abounded in game — but the 
rapidity and secrecy of their march, which was absolutely 
essential to the success of the expedition, did not allow them 
to disperse in search of it. They suffered greatly, there- 
fore, from hunger as well as fatigue; but all being accustom- 
ed to privations of every kind, they prosecuted their march 
with unabated rapidity, and appeared within a mile of one 
of their largest villages, without encountering a single Indi- 
an. Here, unfortunately, a straggler fell in with them, and 
instantly fled to the village, uttering the alarm whoop re- 
peatedly in the shrillest and most startling tones. The troops 
pressed forward with great despatch, and entering their town, 
found it totally deserted. The houses had evidently been a- 
bandoned only a few minutes before their arrival. Fires 
were burning, meat was upon the roasting sticks, and con; 
was still boiling in their kettles. The provisions were a most 
acceptable treat to the Kentuckians, who were well nigh 
famished, but the escape of their enemies excited deep and 
universal chagrin. 

After refreshing themselves, they engaged in the serioui 
business of destroying the property of the tribes with unre- 
lenting severity. Their villages were burnt, their corn cut 
up, and their whole country laid waste. During the whole 
of this severe, but necessary occupation, scarcely an Indian 
was to be seen, The alarm had spread universally, and er- 
ery village was found deserted. Occasionally, a solitary In- 



WESTERN ADVFNTURE. 91 

dian would crawl up within gunshot, and deliver his fire; 
and once a small party, mounted upon superb horses, rode 
up with great audacity, within musket shot, and took a leis- 
urely survey of the whole army, but upon seeing a detach- 
ment preparing to attack them, they galloped off with a ra- 
pidity which baffled pursuit. 

Boone accompanied this expedition, but as usual, has omit- 
ted every thing which relates to himself. Here the brief me- 
moir of Boone closes. It does not appear that he was af- 
terwards engaged in any public expedition or solitary adven- 
ture. He continued a highly respectable citizen of Ken- 
tucky foi se/eral years r until the country became too thick- 
ly settled forfiis taste. As refinement of manners advanced, 
and the general standard of intelligence became elevated by 
the constant arrival of families of rank and influence, the 
rough old woodsman found himself entirely out of his ele- 
ment. He could neither read nor write — the all engaging 
subject of politics, which soon began to agitate the country 
with great violence, was to him as a sealed book or an un- 
known language, and for several years he wandered among 
the living group which thronged the court yard or the chur- 
ches f like a venerable relict of other days. He was among 
them, but not of them! He pined in secret, for the wild and 
lonely forests of the west — for the immense prairie trodden 
only by the buffalo, or the elk, and became eager to ex- 
change the listless langor and security of a village, for the 
healthful exercises of the chase, or the more thrilling excite- 
ment of savage warfare. 

In 1792, he dictated his brief and rather dry memoirs to 
some young gentleman who could write, and who has gar- 
nished it with a few flourishes of rhetoric, which passed off 
upon the old woodsman as a precious morsel of eloquence. 
He was never more gratified, than when he could sit and 
hear it read to him, by someone, who was willing at so small 



02 SKETCHES OF 

an expense to gratify the harmless vanity of the kind hear 
ted old pioneer. He would listen with great earnestness, and 
occasionally rub his hands, smile, and ejaculate, "all true! 
every word true! — not a lie in it!" He shortly afterwards 
left Kentucky, and removed to Louisiana. Hunting was 
his daily amusement, and almost his only occupation. Un- 
til the day of his death (and he lived to an unusually ad- 
vanced age,) he was in the habit of remaining for days at a 
time in the forest, at a distance from the abodes of men, 
armed with a rifle, hatchet, knife, and having flints and steei 
to enable him to kindle a fire, and broil the wild game upon 
which he depended for subsistence. When too old to walk 
through the woods, as was his custom when young, he would 
ride to a lick, and there lay m ambush all day, for the sake 
of getting a shot at the herds of deer that were accustomed 
to visit the spot, for the sake of the salt. We have heard 
that he died in the woods, while lying in ambush near a lick, 
but have not at present the means of ascertaining with cer- 
tainty the manner of his death. He has left behind him a 
name strongly written in the annals of Kentucky, and a rep- 
utation for calm courage, softened by humanity, conducted 
by prudence, and embellished by a singular modesty of deport- 
ment. His person was rough, robust, and indicating strength 
rather than activity; his manner was coir), grave and taci 
turn ; his countenance homely, but kind ; his conversation un- 
adorned, unobtrusive and touching only upon the "needful." 
He never spoke of himself, unless particularly questioned; 
but the written account of his life was the Delilah of his 
imagination. The idea of "seeing his name in print," com- 
pletely overcame the cold philosophy of his general manner, 
and he seemed to think it a masterpiece of composition. 



WESTEBW ADVENTURE. 93 



CHAPTER Iff. 

Simon Kenton was born in Fauquier county, Virginia^ 
on the 15th of May, 1755, the ever memorable year of 
Braddock's defeat. Of his early years nothing is known. 
His parents were poor, and until the age of sixteen, his days 
seem to have passed away in the obscure and laborious 
drudgery of a farm. He was never taught to read or write, 
and to this early negligence or inability on the part of his pa- 
rents, is the poverty and desolation of his old age, in a great 
measure to be attributed. At the age of sixteen, by an 
unfortunate adventure, he was launched into life, with no 
other fortune, than a stout heart, and a robust set of 
limbs It seems, that young as he was, his heart had be- 
come entangled in the snares of a young coquette in the 
neighborhood, who was grievously perplexed by the neces- 
sity of choosing one husband out of many lovers. Young 
Kenton, and a robust farmer by the name of Leitehman, seem, 
to have been the most favored suitors, and the young lady, 
not being able to decide upon their respective merits, they 
took the matter into their own hands, and, in consequence 
of foul play on the part of Leitchman's friends, young Ken- 
ton was beaten with great severity. He submitted to his 
fate, for the time, in silence, but internally vowed, that as 
soon as he had obtained his full growth, he would take am- 
ple vengeance upon his rival, for the disgrace which he had 
sustained at his hands. He waited patiently until the follow- 
ing spring, when finding himself six feet high, and full of 
health and action, he determined to delay the hour of re- 
tribution no longer. 

He accordingly walked over to Leitchman's house one 



94 SKETCHES OF 

morning, and finding him busily engaged in carrying shin- 
gles from the woods, to his own house, he stopped him, told 
him his object, and desired him to adjourn to a spot, more 
convenient for the purpose. Leitchman, confident in his su- 
perior age and strength, was not backward in testifying his 
willingness to indulge him, in so amiable a pastime, and hav- 
ing reached a solitary spot in the wood, they both stripped 
and prepared for the encounter. The battle was fought 
with all the fury, which mutual hate, jealousy, and hercule- 
an power on both sides, could supply, and after a severe 
round, in which considerable damage was done and receiv- 
ed, Kenton was brought to the ground. Leitchman (as usual 
in Virginia) sprung upon him without the least scruple, and 
added the most bitter taunts, to the kicks with which he sa- 
luted him, from his head to his heels, reminding him of his 
former defeat, and rubbing salt into the raw wounds of jeal- 
ousy, by triumphant allusions to his own superiority both in 
love and war, During these active operations on the part of 
Leitchman, Kenton lay perfectly still, eying attentively a 
small bush which grew near them. It instantly occurred 
to him, that if he could wind Leitchman's hair, (which was 
remarkabfy long,) around this bush, he would be able to re- 
turn those kicks which were now bestowed upon him in 
such profusion. The difficulty was to get his antagonist 
near enough. This he at length effected in the good old 
Virginia style, viz : by biting him en arriere, and compel- 
ling him, by short springs, to approach the bush, much as a 
bullock is goaded on to approach the fatal ring, where all his 
struggles are useless. When near enough, Kenton sudden- 
ly exerted himself violently, and succeeded in wrapping the 
long hair of his rival around the sapling. He then sprung 
to his feet, and inflicted a terrible revenge for all his past in- 
juries. In a few seconds Leitchman was gasping, appa- 
rently in the agonies of death. Kenton instantly fled, with- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 95 

out even returning for an additional supply of clothing, and 
directed his steps westward. 

During the first day of his journey, he travelled in much 
agitation. He supposed that Leitchmanwas dead, and that 
the hue and cry would instantly be raised after himself as 
the murderer. The constant apprehension of a gallows, 
lent wings to his flight, and he scarcely allowed himseif a 
moment for refreshment, until he had reached the neighbor- 
hood of the Warm Springs, where the settlements were thin, 
and the immediate danger of pursuit was over. Here, he 
fortunately fell in with an exile from the state of New Jersey, 
of the name of Johnson, who was travelling westward on 
foot, and driving a single pack horse, laden with a few ne- 
cessaries, before him. They soon became acquainted, re- 
lated their adventures to each other, and agreed to travel to- 
gether. They plunged boldly into the wilderness of the Al- 
leghany mountains, and subsisting upon wild game and a 
small quantity of flour, which Johnson had brought with 
him, they made no halt until they arrived at a small settle- 
ment on Cheat river, one of the prongs of the Monongahe- 
la. Here the two friends separated, and Kenton, (who had 
assumed the name of Butler,) attached himself to a small 
company headed by John Mahon and Jacob Greathouse, 
who had united for the purpose of exploring the country. 
They quickly built a large canoe, and descended the river as 
far as the Province's settlement. There Kenton became ac- 
quainted with two young adventurers, Yager and Strader, 
the former of whom had been taken by the Indians when a 
child, and had spent many years in their village. He inform- 
ed Kenton that there was a country below, which the Indians 
called Kan-tuck-ee, which was a perfect Elysium: that the 
ground was not only the richest, and the vegetation the most 
luxuriant in the world ; but, that the immense herds of buffa- 
lo and elk, which ranged at large through its forests, would 



96 SKETCHES OF 

appear incredible to one who had never witnessed such a 
spectacle. He added, that it was entirely uninhabited, and 
was open to all who chose to hunt there; that he himself had 
often accompanied the Indians in their grand hunting par- 
ties through the country, and was confident that he could 
conduct him to the same ground, if he was willing to ven* 
ture. 

Kenton eagerly closed with the proposal, and announced 
his readiness to accompany him immediately* A canoe was 
speedily procured, and the three young men committed them- 
selves to the waters of the Ohio, in search of the enchanted 
hunting ground, which Yager had visited in his youth, while 
a captive among the Indians. Yager had no idea of its ex- 
act distance from Province's settlement. He recollected on 
ly that he had crossed the Ohio in order to reach it, and de* 
clared that, by sailing down the river for a k\v days, they 
would come to the spot where the Indians were accustomed to 
cross, and assured Kenton that there would be no difficulty in 
recognizing it, that its appearance was different from all the 
rest of the world, &c. &c. 

Fired by Yager's glowing description of its beauty, and 
eager to reach this new El Dorado of the west, the young 
men rowed hard for several days, confidently expecting that 
every bend of the river would usher them into the land of 
promise. No such country, however, appeared; and, at 
length, Kenton and Strader became rather sceptical as to its 
existence at all. They rallied Yager freely upon the sub- 
ject, who still declared positively that they would soon wit- 
ness the confirmation of all that he had said. After de- 
scending, however, as low as the spot where Manchester 
now stands, and seeing nothing which resembled Yager's 
country, they held a council, in which it was determined to 
return, and survey the country more carefully — Yager still 
nsisting, that they must have passed it in the night. They- 






WESTERN ADVENTURE. **' 

accordingly, retraced their steps, and successively explored 
the land about Salt Lick, Little and Big Sandy, and Guy- 
andotte. At length, being totally wearied out, in searching 
for what had no existence, they turned their attention entire- 
ly to hunting and trapping, and spent nearly two years up- 
on the Great Kenawha, in this agreeable and profitable oc- 
cupation. They obtained clothing in exchange for their 
furs, from the traders of fort Pitt, and the forest supplied them 
abundantly with wild game for food. 

In March, 1773, while reposing in their tent, after the la- 
bors of the day, they were suddenly attacked by a party of 
Indians. Strader was killed at the first fire, and Kenton and 
Yager with difficulty effected their escape, being compelled 
to abandon their guns, blankets, and provisions, and com- 
mit themselves to the wilderness, without the means of shel- 
tering themselves from the cold, procuring a morsel of food, 
or even kindling a fire. They were far removed from any 
white settlement, and had no other prospect than that of per- 
ishing by famine, or falling a sacrifice to the fury of such 
Indians as might chance to meet them. Reflecting, however, 
that it was never too late for men to be utterly lost, they de- 
termined to strike through the woods lot the Ohio river, and 
take such fortune as it should please heaven to bestow. 

Directing their route by the barks of trees, they pressea 
forward in a straight direction for the Ohio, and during the 
two first days allayed the piercing pangs of hunger by chew- 
ing such roots as they could find on their way. On the third 
day, their strength began to fail, and the keen appetite 
which, at first, had constantly tortured them, was succeeded 
by a nausea, accompanied with dizziness and a sinking of 
the heart, bordering on despair. On the fourth day, they 
often threw themselves upon the ground, determined to await 
the approach of death — and as often were stimulated by the 
instinctive love of life, to arise and resume their journey 

9 



98 SKETCHES OF 

On the fifth, they were completely exhausted, and were 
able only to crawl, at intervals. In this manner, they trav- 
elled about a mile during the day, and succeeded, by sunset, 
in reaching the banks of the Ohio. Here, to their inexpres- 
sible joy, they encountered a party of traders, from whom 
they obtained a comfortable supply of provisions. 

The traders were so much startled at the idea of being 
exposed to perils, such as those which Kenton and Yager 
had just escaped, that they lost no time in removing from 
such a dangerous vicinity, and instantly returned to the 
mouth of the Little Kenawha, where they met with Dr. Bris- 
coe at the head of another exploring party. From him, Ken- 
ton obtained a rifle and some ammunition, with which he a- 
gain plunged alone into the forest, and hunted with success 
until the summer of '73 was far advanced. Returning, then, 
to the Little Kenawha, he found a party of fourteen men 
under the direction of Dr. Wood and Hancock Lee, who 
were descending the Ohio with the view of joining Capt. Bui 
litt, who was supposed to be at the mouth of Scioto, with a 
large party. Kenton instantly joined them, and descended 
the river in canoes as far as the Three Islands, landing fre- 
quently and examining the country on each side of the river. 
At the Three Islands they were alarmed by the approach of 
a large party of Indians, by whom they were compelled to 
abandon their canoes and strike diagonally through the wilder- 
ness for Greenbriar county, Virginia. They suffered much 
during this journey from fatigue and famine, and were com- 
pelled at one time (notwithstanding the danger of their situ- 
ation,) to halt for fourteen days and wait upon Dr. Wood, 
who had unfortunately been tilten by a copper-head snake and 
rendered incapable of moving for that length of time. Upon 
reaching the settlements the party separated. 

Kenton, not wishing to venture to Virginia, (having heard 
nothing of Leitchman's recovery,) built a canoe on the bank? 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 99 

of the Monongahela, and returned to the mouth of the Great 
Ivenawha, hunted with success until the spring of '74, when 
a war broke out between the Indian tribes and the colonies, 
occasioned ia a great measure, by the murder of the cele- 
brated chief, Logan's family, by Capt. Cressup. Kenton 
was not in the great battle near the mouth of the Kenawha, 
but acted as a spy throughout the whole of the campaign, in 
the course of which, he traversed the country around fort 
Pitt, and a large part of the present state of Ohio. 

When Dunmore's forces were disbanded, Kenton, in com- 
pany with two others, determined on making a second effort 
to discover the rich lands bordering on the Ohio, of which 
Yager had spoken. Having built a canoe, and provided 
themselves abundantly with ammunition, they descended the 
river as far as the mouth of Big Bone Creek, upon which 
the celebrated Lick of that name is situated. They there 
disembarked, and explored the country for several days ; but 
not finding the land equal to their expectations, they reas- 
cended the river as far as the mouth of Cabin Creek, a 
few miles above Maysville. 

From this point, they set out with a determination to ex- 
amine the country carefully, until they could find land an- 
swering in some degree, to Yager's description. In a short 
time, they reached the neighborhood of Mayslick, and for 
the first time were struck with the uncommon beauty of the 
country and fertility of the soil. Here they fell in with the 
great buffalo trace, which, in a few hours, brought them to 
the Lower Blue Lick. The flats upon each side of the riv- 
er w r ere crowded with immense herds of buffalo, that had 
come down from the interior for the sake of the salt, and a 
number of elk were seen upon the bare ridges which sur- 
rounded the springs. Their great object was now achiev- 
ed. They had discovered a country far more rich than any 



100 SKETCHES OF 

which they had yet beheld, and where the game seemed as 
abundant as the grass of the plain, 

After remaining a few days at the Lick, and killing an 
immense number of deer and buffalo, they crossed the Lic- 
king, and passing through the present counties of Scott, Fay- 
ette, Woodford, Clarke, Montgomery and Bath, when, falling 
in with another buffalo trace, it conducted them to the Up- 
per Blue Lick, where they again beheld elk and buffalo in 
immense numbers. Highly gratified at the success of their 
expedition, they quickly returned to their canoe, and ascen- 
ded the river as far as Green Bottom, where they had left 
their skins, some ammunition, and a few hoes, which they 
had procured at Kenawha, with the view of cultivating the 
rich ground which they expected to find. 

Returning as quickly as possible, they built a cabin on 
the spot where the town of Washington now stands, and hav- 
ing cleared an acre of ground, in the centre of a large cane- 
brake, they planted it with Indian corn. Strolling about the 
country in various directions, they one day fell in with two 
white men near the Lower Blue Lick, who had lost their 
guns, blankets, and ammunition, and were much distressed 
for provisions and the means of extricating themselves from 
the wilderness. They informed them that their names were 
Fitzpatrick and Hendricks; that, in descending the Ohio, 
their canoe had been overset by a sudden squall ; and that 
they were compelled to swim ashore, without being able to 
save any thing from the wreck; that they had wandered thus 
Far through the woods, in the effort to penetrate through the 
country, to the settlements above, but must infallibly perish r 
unless they could be furnished with guns and ammunition. 
Kenton informed them of the small settlement which he had 
opened at Washington, and invited them to join him and share 
such fortune as Providence might bestow. Hendricks con 
rented to remain,, but Fitzpatrick, being heartily sick of the 



WESTERN ADVBNTUKL. 101 

wood?, insisted upon returning to the Monongaheia Ken- 
ion and his two friends, accompanied Fitzpatrick to "the 
point," as it was then called, being the spot where Maysville 
now stands, and having given him a gun, &c, assisted him 
in crossing the river, and took leave of him on the other 
side. 

In the mean time, Hendricks had been left at the Blue 
Lick, without a gun, but with a good supply of provisions, 
until the party could return from the river. As soon as Fitz- 
patrick had gone, Kenton and his two friends hastened to 
return to the Lick, not doubting for a moment, that they 
would find Hendricks in camp as they had left bim. upon 
arriving at the point where the tent had stood, however, they 
were alarmed at finding it deserted, with evident marks of 
violence around it. Several bullet holes were to be seen in 
the poles of which it was constructed, and various articles 
belonging to Hendricks, were tossed about in too negligent a 
manner, to warrant the belief that it had been done by him. 
At a little distance from the camp, in a low ravine, they ob- 
served a thick smoke, as if from a fire just beginning to 
burn. They did not doubt for a moment, that Hendricks 
had fallen into the hands of the Indians, and believing that 
a party of them were then assembled around the fire which 
was about to be kindled, they betook themselves to their heels, 
and fled faster and farther, than true chivalry perhaps would 
justify. They remained at a distance until the evening of 
the next day, when they ventured cautiously to return to 
camp. The fire was still burning, although faintly, and af- 
ter carefully reconnoitering the adjacent ground, they ven- 
tured at length to approach the spot, and there beheld the 
skull and bones of their unfortunate friend! He had evi- 
dently been roasted to death by a party of Indians, and must 
have been alive at the time when Kenton and his compan- 
ion approached on the preceding day. It was a subject of 

9* 



10$ SKETCHES OF 

deep regret to the party, that they had not reconnoitered the 
spot more closely, as it was probable that their friend might 
have been rescued. The number of Indians might have 
been small, and a brisk and unexpected attack might have 
dispersed them. Regret, however, was now unavailing, 
and they sadly retraced their steps to their camp at Wash- 
ington, pondering upon the uncertainty of their own condi- 
tion, and upon the danger to which they were hourly exposed 
from the numerous bands of hostile Indians, who were- prow- 
ling around them in every direction. 

They remained at Washington, entirely undisturbed, un- 
til! the month of September, when again visiting the Lick, 
they saw a white man, who informed them that the interior 
of the country was already occupied by the whites, and 
that there was a thriving settlement at Boonsborough. High- 
ly gratified at this intelligence, and anxious once more to en*, 
joy the society of men, they broke up their encampment at 
Washington, and visited the different stations which had been 
formed in the country. Kenton sustained two sieges in 
Boonsborough, and served as a spy, with equal diligence and 
success, until the summer of '78, when Boone, returning 
from captivity, as had already been mentioned, concerted an 
expedition against the small Indian town on xaint Creek . 
Kenton acted as a spy on this expe ition, and after crossing 
the Ohio, being some distance in advance of the rest, he 
was suddenly etartle I by hearing a loud laugh from an ad- 
joining thicket, which he was just about to enter. Instantly 
halting, he took his station behind a tree, and waited anx- 
iously for a repetition of the noise. In a few minutes, two 
Indians approached the spot where he lay, both mounted up- 
on a small poney, and chatting and laughing in high good hu- 
mor. Having permitted them to approach within good rifle 
distance, he raised his gun, and aiming at the breast of the 
foremost, pulled the trigger.. Both Indians fell — one shot 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 106 

dead, ihe other severely wounded. Their frightened poney 
galloped back into the cane, giving the alarm to the rest of 
the party who were some distance in the rear. Kenton in- 
stantly ran up to scalp the dead man and to tomahawk his 
wounded companion, according to the usual rule of western 
warfare ; but, when about to put an end to the struggles of 
the wounded Indian, who did not seem disposed to submit ve- 
ry quietly to the operation, his attention was attracted by a 
rustling of the cane on his right, and turning rapidly in that 
direction, he beheld two Indians within twenty steps of him, 
very deliberately taking aim at his person. A quick spring 
to one side, on his part, was instantly followed by the flash 
and report of their lifles — the balls whistled close to his 
ears, causing him involuntarily to duck his head, but doing 
him no injury. Not liking so hot a neighborhood, and ig- 
norant of the number which might yet be behind, he lost 
no time in regaining the shelter of the wood, leaving the 
dead Indian unseal ped and the wounded man to the care of 
his friends. Scarcely had he treed, when a dozen Indians 
appeared on the edge of the canebrake, and seemed dis- 
posed to press upon him with more vigor than was consis- 
tent with the safety of his present position, His fears how- 
eve*\ were instantly relieved by the appearance of Boone 
and his party, who came running up as rapidly as a due re- 
gard to the shelter of their persons would permit, and open- 
ing a brisk fire upon the Indians, quickly compelled them to 
regain the shelter of the canebrake, with the loss of several 
wounded, who, as usual, were carried off. The dead Indian, 
in the hurry of the retreat was abandonod, and Kenton at 
last had the gratification of taking his scalp! 

Boone, as has already been mentioned, instantly retraced 
his steps to Boonsborough; but Kenton and his friend Mont- 
gomery, determined to proceed alone to the Indian town, and 
at least obtain some recompense for the trouble of their jour- 



104 SKETCHES OF 

ney. Approaching the village with the cautious and steal- 
thy pace of of the cat or panther, they took their stations up- 
on the edge of the cornfield, supposing that the Indians would 
enter it as usual to gather roasting ears. They remained 
here patiently all day, but did not see a single Indian, and 
heard only the voices of some children who were playing 
near them. Being disappointed in the hope of getting a 
shot, they entered the Indian town in the night, and stealing 
four good horses, made a rapid night's march for the Ohio, 
which they crossed in safety, and on the second day after- 
wards, reached Logan's fort with their booty. 

Scarcely had he returned, when Col. Bowman ordered 
him to take his friend Montgomery, and another young man 
named Clark, and go on a secret expedition to an Indian 
town on the Little Miami, against which the Colonel medi- 
tated an expedition, and of the exact condition of which he 
wished to have certain information. They instantly sat out, 
in obedience to their orders, and reached the neighborhood 
of the town without being discovered. They examined it 
attentively, and walked around the houses during the night 
with perfect impunity. Thus far all had gone well — and 
had they been contented to return after the due execution of 
their orders, they would have avoided the heavy calamity 
which awaited them. But, unfortunately, during their night- 
ly promenade, they stumbled upon a pound in which were 
a number of Indian horses. The temptation was not to be 
resisted. They each mounted a horse, but not satisfied with 
that, they could not find it in their hearts to leave a single an- 
imal behind them, and as some of the horses seemed indis- 
posed to change masters, the affair was attended with so 
much fracas, that at last they were discovered. The cry 
ran through the village at once, that the Long Knives were 
stealing their horses right before the doors of their wigwams, 
and old and young, squaws, boys and warriors, all sallied out 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 105 

with loud screams to save their property from these greedy 
spoilers. Kenton and his friends quickly discovered that 
they had overshot the mark, and that they must ride for their 
lives,* but even in this extremity, they could not bring them- 
selves to give up a single horse which they had haltered, and 
while two of them rode in front and led, I know not how ma- 
ny horses, the other brought up the rear, and plying his whip 
from right to left, did not permit a single animal to lag be- 
hind. In this manner, they dashed through the woods at a 
rurious rate with the hue and cry after them, until their 
course was suddenly stopped by an impenetrable swamp. 
Here, from necessity, they paused for a few moments and 
listened attentively. Hearing no sounds of pursuit, they 
resumed their course, and skirting the swamp for some dis- 
tance, in the vain hope of crossing it, they bent their courso 
in a straight direction towards the Ohio. They rode during 
the whole night without resting a moment — and halting for a 
few minutes atday light, they continued their journey through- 
out the day, and the whole of the following night, and by 
this uncommon expedition, on the morning of the second day 
they reached the northern bank of the Ohio. Crossing the 
river would now ensure their safety, but this was likely to 
prove a difficult undertaking, and the close pursuit which 
they had reason to expect, rendered it necessary to lose as 
little time as possible. The wind was high and the river 
rough and boisterous. It was determined that Kenton should 
cross with the horses, while Clark and Montgomery should 
construct a raft in order to transport their guns, baggage and 
ammunition to the opposite shore. The necessary prepara- 
tions were soon made, and Kenton, after forcing his horses 
into the river, plunged in himself and swam by their side. 
In a very few minutes the high waves completely over- 
whelmed him and forced him considerably below 7 the horses, 
that stemmed the current much more vigorouslv than him- 



106 SKETCHES OF 

self. The horses being thus left to themselves, turned a~ 
bout, and swam again to the Ohio shore, where Kenton was 
compelled to follow them. Again he forced them into the 
water— -and again they returned to the same spot, until Ken- 
ton became so exhausted by repeated efforts, as to be unable 
to swim. A council was then held and the question propos- 
ed "what was to be done?" That the Indians would pursue 
them, was certain — that the horses would not, and could not 
be made to cross the river in its present state, was equally 
certain. Should they abandon their horses and cross on the 
raft, or remain with their horses and take such fortune as 
heaven should send them. The latter alternative was unan- 
imously adopted. Death or captivity might be tolerated — 
but the loss of so beautiful a lot of horses, after having 
irprked so hard for them, was not to be thought of for a mo- 
ment* 

As soon as it was determined that themselves and horses 
were to share the same fate, it again became necessary to 
fix upon some probable plan of saving them. Should they 
move up or down the river, or remain where they were? 
The latter course was adopted. It was supposed that the 
wind would fall at sunset, and the river become sufficiently 
calm to admit of their passage, and as it was supposed proba- 
ble that the Indians might be upon them before night, it was 
determined to conceal the horses in a neighboring ravine, 
while they should take their stations in the adjoining wood 
A more miserable plan could not have been adopted. If 
they could not consent to sacrifice their horses, in order to 
save their own lives, they should have moved either up or 
down the river, and thus have preserved the distance from 
the Indians which their rapidity of movement had gained. 
The Indians would have followed their trail, and being twen- 
ty four hours march behind them, could never have overta- 
ken them, .But neglecting this obvious consideration, they 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 107 

stupidly sat down until sunset, expecting that the river would 
become more calm. The day passed away in tranquility, 
but at night the wind blew harder than ever, and the water 
became so rough, that even their raft would have been 
scarcely able to cross. Not an instant more should have 
been lost, in moving from so dangerous a post; but as if to- 
tally infatuated, they remained where they were until mor- 
ning — thus wasting twenty four hours of most precious time 
in total idleness. In the morning, the wind abated, and the 
river became calm — but it was now too late. Their horses, 
recollecting the difficulty of the passage on the preceding 
day, had become as obstinate and heedless as their masters, 
and positively and repeatedly refused to take the water. Fin- 
ding every effort to compel them, entirely unavailing, their 
masters at length determined to do what ought to have been 
done at first. Each resolved to mount a horse and make the 
best of his way down the river to Louisville. Had even this 
resolution, however tardily adopted, been executed with de- 
cision, the party would probably have been saved, but after 
they were mounted, instead of leaving the ground instantly, 
they went back upon their own trail, in the vain effort to re- 
gain possession of the rest of their horses, which had broken 
from them in the last effort to drive them into the water. 
They wearied out their good genius, and literally fell victims 
to their love for horse-flesh. They had scarcely ridden one 
hundred yards, (Kenton in the centre, the others upon the 
flanks, with an interval of two hundred yards between them) 
when Kenton heard a loud halloo, apparently coming from 
the spot which they had just left. Instead of getting out of 
the way as fast as possible, and trusting to the speed of his 
horse and the thickness of the wood for safety, he put the 
last capping stone to his imprudence, and dismounting, walk- 
ed leisurely back to meet his pursuers, and thus give them 
as little trouble as possible. He quickly beheld three Indi- 



108 SKETCHES OF 

ans and one white man, all well mounted. Wishing to give 
the alarm to his companions, he raised his rifle to his shoul- 
der, took a steady aim at the breast of the foremost Indian, 
and drew the trigger. His gun had become wet on the raft 
and flashed. The enemy were instantly alarmed and dash- 
ed at him. Nov/, at last, when flight could be of no ser- 
vice, Kenton betook himself to his heels, and was pursued by 
four horsemen at full speed. He instantly directed his steps 
to the thickest part of the wood, where there was much fal- 
len timber and a rank growth of underwood, and had suc- 
ceeded, as he thought, in hahTing his pursuers, when, just 
as he was leaving the fallen timber and entering the open 
wood, an Indian on horseback galloped round the corner of 
the wood, and approached him so rapidly as to render flight 
useless. The horseman rode up, holding out his hand and 
calling ont "brother ! brother!" in a tone of great affection. 
Kenton observes that if his gun would have made fire, he 
would have "brothered" him to his heart's content, but being 
totally unarmed, he called out that he would surrender if they 
would give him quarter and good treatment. Promis- 
es were cheap with the Indian, and he showered them out 
by the dozen, continuing all the while to advance with ex- 
tended hands and a writhing grin upon his countenance, 
which was intended for a smile of courtesy. Seizing Ken- 
ton's hand, he grasped it with violence. Kenton, not liking 
the manner of his captor, raised his gun to knock him down, 
when an Indian who had followed him closely through the 
brushwood, instantly sprung upon his back and pinioned his 
arms to his side. The one who had just approached him, 
then seized him by the hair and shook him until his teeth rat- 
tled, while the rest of the party coming up, they all fell up- 
on Kenton with their tongues and ramrods, until he thought 
they would scold or beat him to death. They were the own- 
*w of the horses which he had carried ofT, and now took an> 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 109 

pie revenge for the loss of their property. At every stroke 
of their ramrods over his head, (and they were neither few 
nor far between,) they would repeat in a tone of strong in- 
dignation, "steal Jndian hoss ! ! hey ! !" 

Their attention, however, was soon directed to Montgome- 
ry, who, having heard the noise attending Kenton's capture, 
very gallantly hastened up to his assistance ; while Clark 
very prudently consulted his own safety in betaking him- 
self to his heels, leaving his unfortunate companions to shift 
for themselves. Montgomery halted within gunshot and ap- 
peared busy with the pan of his gun, as if preparing to fire 
Two Indians instantly sprung off in pursuit of him, w r hile 
the rest attended to Kenton. In a few minutes Kenton heard 
the crack of two rifles in quick succession, followed by a 
halloo, which announced the fate of his friend. The Indi- 
dians quickly returned, waging the bloody scalp of Mont- 
gomery, and with countenances and gestures which menaced 
him with a similar fate. They then proceeded to secure 
their prisoner. They first compelled him to lie upon his 
back, and stretched out his arms to their full length. They 
then passed a stout stick at right angles across his breast, to 
each extremity of which his wrists were fastened by thongs 
made of Buffalo's hide. Stakes were then driven into the 
earth, near his feet, to which they were fastened in a simi- 
lar manner. A halter was then tied around his neck, and 
fastened to a sapling which grew near, and finally a strong 
rope was passed under his body, lashed strongly to the pole 
which lay transversely upon his breast, and finally wrapped 
around his arms at the elbows, in such a manner as to pin- 
ion them to the pole with a painful violence, and render him 
literally incapable of moving hand, foot, or head, in the 
slightest manner. 

During the whole of this severe operation, neither their 
tongues nor hands were by any means idle. They cuffed 

10 



110 SKETCHES OF 

him from time to time, with great heartiness, until his ears 
rung again, and abused him for a "tief ! — a hoss steal !— a 
rascal!" and finally for a '<d — — d white man!" I may 
here observe, that all the western Indians had picked up a 
good many English words — particularly our oaths, which, 
from the frequency with which they were used by our hun- 
ters and traders, they probably looked upon as the very root 
and foundation of the English language. Kenton remain- 
ed in this painful attitude throughout the night, looking for- 
ward to certain death, and most probably torture, as soon as 
he should reach their towns. Their rage against him seem- 
ed to increase rather than abate, from indulgence, and in 
the morning it displayed itself in a form at once ludicrous 
and cruel. Among the horses which Kenton had taken, 
and which their original owners had now recovered, was a 
tine but wild young colt, totally unbroken, and with all his 
honors of mane and tail undocked. Upon him, Kenton was 
mounted, without saddle or bridle, with his hands tied be- 
hind him, and his feet fastened under the horse's belly. The 
country was rough and bushy^ and Kenton had no means of 
protecting his face from the brambles, through which it was 
expected that the colt would dash. As soon as the rider wag 
firmly fastened to his back, the colt was turned loose with a 
sudden lash, but after exerting a few curvetts and caprioles, 
to the great distress of his rider, but to the infinite amuse- 
ment of the Indians, he appeared to take compassion upon 
his rider, and falling into a line with the other horses, avoid- 
ed the brambles entirely, and went on very well. In this 
manner he rode through the day. At night he was taken 
from the horse and confined as before. 

On the third day, they came within a few miles of Chilli- 
cothe. Here the party halted, and despatched a messenger 
to inform the village of their arrival, in order, 1 suppose, to 
give th em time to prepare for his reception. In a short time 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. Ill 

Blackfish, one of their chiefs, arrived, and regarding Ken- 
ton with a stern countenance, thundered out in very good En- 
glish, "you have been stealing horses?" "Yes sir." "Did 
Capt. Boone tell you to steal our horses?" "No sir — I did it 
of my own accord." This frank confession was too irita- 
ting to be borne. Blackfish made no reply, but brandishing 
a hickory switch, which he held in his hand, he applied it so 
briskly to Kenton's naked back and shoulders, as to bring the 
blood freely, and occasion acute pain . 

Thus, alternately beaten and scolded, he marched on to 
the village. At the distance of a mile from Chillicothe, he 
saw every inhabitant of the town, men, women and children, 
running out to feast their eyes with a view of the prison- 
er. Every individual, down to the smallest child, appeared 
in a paroxism of rage. They whooped, they yelled, they 
hooted, they clapped their hands, and poured upon him a 
flood of abuse to which all that he had yet received, was gen- 
tleness and civility. With loud cries, they demanded that 
their prisoner should be tied to the stake. The hint was in- 
stantly complied with. A stake was quickly fastened into 
the ground. The remnant of Kenton's shirt and breeches 
were torn from his person, (the squaws officiating with great 
dexterity in both operations,) and his hands being tied to- 
gether, and raised above his head, were fastened to the top 
of the stake. The whole party then danced around him 
until midnight, yelling and screaming in their usual frantic 
manner, striking him with switches, and slapping him with 
the palms of their hands, He expected every moment to 
undergo the torture of fire, but that was reserved for anoth- 
er time. They wished to prolong the pleasure of torment- 
ing him as much as possible, and after having caused him to 
anticipate the bitterness of death, until a late hour of the 
night, they released him from the stake and conveyed him to 
the village. 



112 SKETCHES OF 

Early in the morning he beheld the scalp of Montgomery 
stretched upon a hoop, and drying in the air, before the door 
of one of their principal houses. He was quickly led out 
and ordered to run the gauntlet. A row of boys, women 
and men, extended to the distance of a quarter of a mile. 
At the starting place, stood two grim looking warriors, with 
butcher knives in their hands — at the extremity of the line, 
was an Indian beating a drum, and a few paces beyond the 
drum, was the door of the council house. Clubs, switches, 
hoe-handles, and tomahawks were brandished along the 
whole line, causing the sweat, involuntarily to stream from 
his pores, at the idea of the discipline which his naked skin 
was to receive during the race. The moment for starting 
arrived — the great drum at the door of the council house was 
struck — and Kenton sprung forward in the race. A scene, 
precisely resembling a splendid picture in the last of the 
Mohicans, now took place. Kenton avoided the row of his 
enemies, and turning to the east, drew the whole party in 
pursuit of him. He doubled several times with great ac- 
tivity, and at length observing an opening, he darted through 
it, and pressed forward to the council house with a rapidity 
which left his pursuers far behind. One or two of the Indi- 
ans succeeded in throwing themselves between him and the 
goal — and from these alone, he received a few blows, but 
was much less injured than he could at first have suppos- 
ed possible. 

As soon as the race was over, a council was held in order 
to determine whether he should be burnt to death on the spot, 
or carried round to the other villages, and exhibited to eve- 
ry tribe. The arbiters of his fate, sat in a circle on the floor 
of the council house, while the unhappy prisoner, naked and 
bound, was committed to the care of a guard in the open air* 
The deliberation commenced. Each warrior sat in silence? 
while a large war club was passed round the circle. Those 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 113 

who were opposed to burning the prisoner on the spot, were 
to pass the club in silence to the next warrior, those in fa- 
vor of burning, were to strike the earth violently with the 
club before passing it. A teller was appointed to count the 
votes. This dignitary quickly reported that the opposition 
had prevailed ; that his execution was suspended for the pre- 
sent; and that it was determined to take him to an Indian 
town on Mad river, called Waughcotomoco. His fate was 
quickly announced to him by a renegado white man, who 
acted as interpreter. Kenton felt rejoiced at the issue — but 
naturally became anxious to know what was in reserve for 
him at Waughcotomoco. He accordingly asked the white 
man "what the Indians intended to do with him, upon reach- 
ing the appointed place ? v "Burn you! G — d d n 

you IIP was the ferocious reply. He asked no farther 
question, and the scowling interpreter walked away, 

Instantly preparations were made for his departure, and 
to his great joy, as well as astonishment, his clothes were 
restored to him* and he was permitted to remain unbound. 
Thanks to the ferocious intimation of the interpreter, he was 
aware of the fate in reserve for him, and secretly determin- 
ed that he would never reach Waughcotomoco alive if it was 
possible to avoid it. Their route lay through an unpruned 
forest, abounding in thickets and undergrowth. Unbound 
as he was, it would not be impossible to escape from the 
hands of his conductors; and if he could once enter the thick- 
ets, he thought that he might be enabled to bafHe his pursu- 
ers. At the worst, he could only be retaken — and the fire 
would burn no hotter after an attempt to escape, than before. 
During the whole of their march, he remained abstracted 
and silent — often meditating an effort for liberty, and as of- 
ten shrinking from the peril of the attempt. 

At length he was aroused from his reverie, by the Indians 
firing off their guns, and raising the shrill scalp halloo. The 

10* 



114 SKETCHES OP 

signal was soon answered, and the deep roll of a drum was 
heard far in front, announcing to the unhappy prisoner, that 
they were approaching an Indian town where the gauntlet, 
certainly, and perhaps the stake awaited him. The idea of 
a repetition of the dreadful scenes which he had already 
encountered, completely banished the indecision which had 
hitherto withheld him, and with a sudden and startling cry, he 
sprung into the bushes and fled with the speed of a wild deer. 
The pursuit was instant and keen, some on foot, some on horse- 
back. But he was flying for his life— the stake and the hot iron, 
and the burning splinters, were before his eyes, and he soon 
distanced the swiftest hunter that pursued him. But fate was 
against him at every turn. Thinking only of the enemy be- 
hind — he forgot that there might also be enemies before — 
and before he was aware of what he had done, he found 
that he had plunged into the centre of afresh party of horse- 
men, who had sallied from the town at the firing of the guns, 
and happened unfortunately to stumble upon the poor prison- 
er, now making a last effort for freedom. His heart sunk 
at once from the ardor of hope, to the very pit of despair, 
and he was again haltered and driven before them to town 
like an ox to the slaughterhouse. 

Upon reaching the village, (Pickaway,) he was fastened 
to a stake near the door of the council house, and the warri- 
ors again assembled in debate. In a short time, they issued 
from the council house, and surrounding him, they danced ? 
yelled, &c. for several hours, giving him once more a fore- 
taste of the bitterness of death. On the following morning, 
their journey was continued, but the Indians had now be- 
come watchful, and gave him no opportunity of even at- 
tempting an escape. On the second day, he arrived at 
Waughcotomoco. Here he was again compelled to run the 
gauntlet, in which he was severely hurt; and immediately 
after this ceremony, he was taken to the council house, and 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 115 

all the warriors once more assembled to determine his fate. 

He sat silent and dejected upon the floor of the cabin, a- 
waiting the moment which was to deliver him to the stake, 
when the door of the council house opened^and Simon Gir- 
ty, James Girty, John Ward and an Indian, came in with a 
woman (Mrs. Mary Kennedy,) as a prisoner, together with 
seven children and seven scalps. Kenton was instantly re- 
moved from the council house, and the deliberations of the 
assembly were protracted to a very late hour, in consequence 
of the arrival of the last named party with a fresh drove of 
prisoners. 

At length, he was again summoned to attend the council 
house, being informed that his fate was decided. Regarding 
the mandate as a mere prelude to the stake and fire, which 
he knew was intended for him, he obeyed it with the calm 
despair which had now succeeded the burning anxiety of the 
last few days. Upon entering the council house, he was 
greeted with a savage scowl, which, if he had still cher- 
ished a spark of hope, would have completely extinguished 
it. Simon Girty threw a blanket upon the floor, and harsh- 
ly ordered him to take a seat upon it The order was not 
immediately complied with, and Girty impatiently seizing his 
arm, jirked him roughly upon the blanket, and pulled him 
down upon it. In the same rough and menacing tone, Girty 
then interrogated him as to the condition of Kentucky. 
"How many men are there in Kentucky?" "It is impossi- 
ble forme to answer that question," replied Kenton, "but I 
can tell you the number of officers and their respective 
ranks, — you can then judge for yourself." "Do you know 
William Stewart?" "Perfectly well — he is an old and inti- 
mate acquaintance." "What is your own name ?" "Simon 
Butler!" replied Kenton. Never did the annunciation of a 
name produce a more powerful effect. Girty and Kenton 
(then bearing the name of Butler,) had served as spies to- 



116 SKETCHES OV 

gether, in Dunmore's expedition. The former had not then 
abandoned the society of the whites for that of the savages, 
and had become warmly attached to Kenton during the short 
period of their services together. As soon as he heard the 
name he became strongly agitated — and springing from his 
seat, he threw his arms around Kenton's neck, and embraced 
him with much emotion. Then turning to the assembled 
warriors, who remained astonished spectators of this extra- 
ordinary scene, he addressed them in a short speech, which 
the deep earnestness of his tone, and the energy of his gesture, 
rendered eloquent. He informed them that the prisoner, 
whom they had just condemned to the stake, was his ancient 
comrade and bosom friend: that they had travelled the 
same war path, slept upon the same blanket, and dwelt in 
the same wigwam. He entreated them to have compassion 
upon his feelings — to spare him the agony of witnessing the 
torture of an old friend, by the hands of his adopted broth- 
ers—and not to refuse so trifling a favor as the life of 
a white; man, to the earnest intercession [of one who had 
proved by three years faithful service, that he was sin 
cerely and zealously devoted to the cause of the Indians. 

The speech was listened to, in unbroken silence* As 
soon as he had finished, several chiefs expressed their appro 
bation by a deep guttural interjection, while others were e< 
qually as'Torward in making known their objections to the 
proposal. They urged that his fate had already been deter- 
mined in a large and solemn council, and that they would bk 
acting like squaws to change their minds every hour. They 
insisted upon the flagrant misdemeanors of Kenton; that he 
had not only stolen their horses, but had flashed his gun at 
one of their young men — that it was in vain to suppose 
that so bad a man could ever become an Indian at heart, 
like their brother Girty — that the Kentuckians were alJ a- 
$ke~-?ery bad people—and ought to be killed as fast as they 



WESTERN AftVENTtTKE, 117 

were taken — and, finally, they observed that many of their 
people had come from a distance, solely to assist at the tor- 
ture of the prisoner — and pathetically painted the disap- 
pointment and chagrin with which they would hear that all 
their trouble had been for nothing. 

Girty listened with obvious impatience to the young war- 
riors, who had so ably argued against a reprieve — and start- 
ing to his feet, as soon as the others had concluded, he urged 
his former request with great earnestness. He briefly j but 
strongly recapitulated his own services, and the many and 
weighty instances of attachment which he had given. He 
asked if he could be suspected of partiality to the whites? 
When had he ever before interceded for any of that hated 
race ? Had he not brought seven scalps home with him from 
the last expedition? and had he not submitted seven white 
prisoners that very evening to their discretion? Had he ex- 
pressed a wish that a single one of the captives should be 
saved ? This was his first and should be his last request r. 
for if they refused to Aim, what was never refused to the in- 
tercession of one of their natural chiefs, he would look up- 
on himself as disgraced in their eyes, and considered as un- 
worthy of confidence. Which of their own natural warri- 
ors had been more zealous than himself? From what expe- 
dition had he ever shrunk? what white man had ever seen 
his back? Whose tomahawk had been bloodier than his? 
He would say no more. He asked it as a first and last fa- 
vor; as an evidence that they approved of his zeal and fidel- 
ity, that the life of his bosom friend might be spared. Fresh 
speakers arose upon each side, and the debate was carried 
on for an hour and a half with great heat and energy. 

During the whole of this time, Kenton's feelings may rea- 
dily be imagined. He could not understand a syllable of 
what was said. He saw that Girty spoke with deep earnest- 
ness, and that the eyes of the assembly were often turned 



118 SKETCHES OF 

upon himself with various expressions. He felt satisfied 
that his friend was pleading for his life, and that he was vio- 
lently opposed by a large part of the council. At length, 
the war club was produced and the final vote taken. Ken- 
ton watched its progress with thrilling emotion — which yiel- 
ded to the most rapturous delight, as he perceived, that those 
who struck the floor of the council house, were decidedly in- 
ferior in number to those who passed it in silence. Having 
thus succeeded in his benevolent purpose, Girty lost no time 
in attending to the comfort of his friend. He led him into 
his own wigwam, and from his own store gave him a pair of 
moccasins and leggins, a breech-cloth/a hat, a coat, a hand- 
kerchief for his neck, and another for his head. 

The whole of this remarkable scene is in the highest de- 
gree honorable to Girty, and is in striking contrast to most of 
his conduct after his union with the Indians. No man can 
be completely hardened, and no character is at all times the 
same. Girty had been deeply offended with the whites ; and 
knowing that his desertion to the Indians had been univer- 
sally and severely reprobated, and that he himself was re- 
garded with detestation by his former eountrymen — he seems 
to have raged against them from these causes, with a fury 
which resembled rather the paroxism of a maniac, than the 
deliberate cruelty of a naturally ferocious temper. Fierce 
censure, never reclaims— but rather drives to still greater 
extremities; and this is the reason that renegadoes are so 
much fiercer than natural foes — and that when females fall, 
they fall irretrievably. 

For the space of three Weeks, Kenton lived in perfect 
tranquility. Girty's kindness was uniform and indefatiga- 
ble. Reintroduced Kenton to his own family, and accom- 
panied him to the wigwams of the principal chiefs, who 
seemed all at once to have turned from the extremity of rage 
to the utmost kindness and cordiality. Fortune, however s 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 119 

-eemed to have selected him for her football, and to have 
snatched him from the frying pan only to throw him into the 
fire. About twenty days after his most providential deliver 
ance from the stake, he was walking in company with Girty 
and an Indian named Redpole, when another Indian came 
from the village towards them, uttering repeatedly a whoop 
of peculiar intonation. Girty instantly told Kenton that it 
was the distress halloo, and that they must all go instantly to 
the council house, Kenton's heart involuntarily fluttered at 
the intelligence, for he dreaded all whoops, and hated all 
council houses — firmly believing that neither boded him a- 
ny good. Nothing, however, could be done, to avoid what- 
ever fate awaited him, and he sadly accompanied Girty and 
Redpole back to the village. 

Upon approaching the Indian who had hallood, Girty and 
Redpole shook hands with him. Kenton likewise offered his 
hand, but the Indian refused to take it- — at the same time 
scowling upon him ominously. This took place within a 
few paces of the door of the council house. Upon entering? 
they saw that the house was unusually full. Many chiefs and 
warriors from the distant towns w r ere present; and their coun- 
tenances were grave, severe and forbidding. Girty, Red- 
pole and Kenton, walked around, offering their hands succes- 
sively to each warrior. The hands of the two first were 
cordially received — but when poor Kenton anxiously offered 
his hand to the first warrior, it was rejected with the same 
scowling eye as before. He passed on to the second, but 
was still rejected — he persevered, however, until his hand 
had been refused by the first six — when sinking into despon- 
dence, he turned off and stood apart from the rest. 

The debate quiokly commenced. Kenton looked eagerly 
towards Girty, as his last and only hope. His friend looked 
anxious and distressed. The chiefs from a distance arose 
one after another, and spoke in a firm and indignant tone ; of- 



120 SKETCHES OP 

ten looking at Kenton with an eye of death. Girty did not 
desert him — but his eloquence appeared wasted upon the 
distant chiefs. After a warm debate, he turned to Kenton 
and said, "well! my friend! you must die!" — One of the 
stranger chiefs instantly seized him by the collar, and the oth- 
ers surrounding him, he was strongly pinioned, committed to 
a guard, and instantly marched off. His guard were on 
horseback, while the prisoner was driven before them on 
foot, with a long rope around his neck, the other end of which 
was held by ons of the guard. In this manner they had 
marched about two and a half miles, when Girty passed 
them on horseback, informing Kenton that he had friends at 
the next village, with whose aid he hoped to be able to do 
something for him. Girty passed on to the town, but find- 
ing that nothing could be done, he would not see his friend 
again, but returned to Waughcotomoco by a different route. 
They passed through the village without halting, and at 
the distance of two and a half miles beyond it, Kenton had 
again an opportunity of witnessing the fierce hate with which 
these children of nature regard an enemy. At the distance 
of a few paces from the road, a squaw was busily engaged 
in chopping wood, while her lord and master was sitting on 
a log, smoking his pipe and directing her labors, with the in- 
dolent indifference common to the natives, when not under 
the influence of some exciting passion. The sight of Ken- 
ton, however, seemed to rouse him to fury. He hastily 
sprung up, with a sudden yell — snatched the axe from the 
squaw, and rushing upon the prisoner so rapidly as to give 
him no opportunity of escape, dealt him a blow with the axe 
which cut through his shoulder, breaking the bone and al- 
most severing the arm from his body. He would instantly 
have repeated the blow, had not Kenton's conductors interfer- 
ed and protected him, severely reprimanding the Indian for 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 121 

attempting to rob them of the amusement of torturing the 

prisoner at . 

They soon reached a large village upon the head waters 
of Scioto, where Kenton, for the first time, beheld the cele- 
brated Mingo Chief, Logan, so honorably mentioned in Mr. 
Jefferson's Notes on Virginia. Logan walked gravely up to 
the place where Kenton stood, and the following short con- 
versation ensued : "Well, young man, these young men seem 
very mad at you F 1 "Yes, sir, they certainly are." "Well ! 
don't be disheartened, I am a great chief; you are to go to 
Sandusky — they speak of burning you there — but I will 
send two runners to-morrow to speak good for you." Lo- 
gan's form was striking and manly — his countenance calm 
and noble, and he spoke the English language with fluency 
and correctness. Kenton's spirits instantly rose at the ad- 
dress of the benevolent chief, and he once more looked 
upon himself as providentially rescued from the stake. 

On the following morning, two runners were despatched 
to Sandusky, as the chief had promised, and until their re- 
turn, Kenton was kindly treated, being permitted to spend 
much of his time with Logan, who conversed with him free- 
lv, and in the most friendly manner. In the evening, the 
two runners returned, and were closeted with Logan. Ken- 
ton felt the most burning anxiety to know what was the re- 
sult of their mission, but Logan did not visit him again un- 
til the next morning. He then walked up to him, accompa- 
nied by Kenton's guards, and giving him a piece of bread, 
told him that he was instantly to be carried to Sandusky; and 
without uttering another word, turned upon his heel and left 
him. 

Again, Kenton's spirits sunk. From Logan's manner, 
he supposed that his intercession had been unavailing — and 
that Sandusky was destined to be the scene of his final suf- 
fering. This appears to have been the truth. But fortune, 

11 



122 sketches or 

who, to use Lord Lovat's expression, had been playing at 
cat and mouse with him for the last month, had selected 
Sandusky for the display of her strange and capricious pow- 
er. He was driven into the town, as usual, and was to have 
been burnt on the following morning, when an Indian Agent, 
named Drewyer, interposed, and once more rescued him 
from the stake. He was anxious to obtain intelligence, for 
the British commandant at Detroit^and so earnestly insis- 
ted upon Kenton's being delivered up to him, that the Indi- 
ans at length consented upon the express condition that af- 
ter the required information had been obtained, he should a- 
gain be placed at their discretion. To this Drewyer con- 
sented, and without further difficulty, Kenton was transfer- 
red to his hands. Drewyer lost no time in removing him to 
Detroit. 

On the road, he informed Kenton of the condition upon 
which he had obtained possession of his person, assuring 
him, however, that no consideration should induce him to a- 
bandon a prisoner to the mercy of such wretches. Having 
dwelt at some length upon the generosity of his own disposi- 
tion — and having sufficiently magnified the service which 
he had just rendered him, he began, at length, to cross ques- 
tion Kenton as to the force and condition of Kentucky, and 
particularly as to the number of men at fort Mcintosh. 
Kenton, very candidly declared his inability to answer ei- 
ther queston, observing, that he was merely a private, and 
by no means acquainted with matters of an enlarged and 
general import ; that his great business had heretofore been, 
to endeavor to take care of himself — which he had found a 
work of no small difficulty. Drewyer replied, that he be- 
lieved him, and from that time Kenton was troubled with 
no more questions. 

His condition at Detroit was not unpleasant. He was com- 
pelled to report himself every morning, to an English officer, 



© 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 



123 



and was restricted to certain boundaries through the clay ; but 
in other respects, he scarcely felt that he was a prisoner. 
His battered body and broken arm, were quickly repaired, 
and his emaciated limbs were again clothed with a proper 
proportion of flesh. He remained in this state of easy re- 
straint from October, 1777, until June, 1778, when he med- 
itated an escape. There was no difficulty in leaving De- 
troit—but he would be compelled to traverse a wilderness of 
more than two hundred miles, abounding with hostile Indi- 
ans, and affording no means of subsistence, beyond the wild 
game, which could not be killed without a gun. In addi 
tion to this, he would certainly be pursued, and if retaken 
by the Indians, he might expecc a repetition of all that he 
had undergone before — without the prospect of a second 
interposition on the part of the English. These considera- 
tions deterred him, for some time, from the attempt, but at 
length his impatience became uncontrollable, and he deter- 
mined to escape or perish in the attempt. He took his meas - 
ures with equal secrecy and foresight. He cautiously soun - 
ded two young Kentuckians, then at Detroit, who had been 
taken with Boone at the Blue Licks, and had been purchas- 
ed by the British. He found them as impatient as himself 
of captivity, and resolute to accompany him. Charging 
them not to breathe a syllable of their design to any other 
prisoners, he busied himself for several days in making the 
necessary preparations. It was absolutely necessary that 
they should be provided with arms, both for the sake of re- 
pelling attack, and procuring the means of subsistence; and. 
at the same time, it was very difficult to obtain them, with- 
out the knowledge of the British commandant. By patient 
ly waiting their opportunity, however, all these preliminary 
difficulties were overcome. Kenton formed a close friend- 
ship with two Indian hunters, deluged them with rum, and 
bought their guns for a mere trifle, After carefully hiding 



124 



SKETCHES OF 



them in the woods, he returned to Detroit, and managed to 
procure another rifle, together with powder and balls, from a 
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar, citizens of the town. They then ap- 
pointed a night for the attempt, and agreed upon a place of 
rendezvous. All things turned out prosperously. They 
met at the time and place appointed, without discovery, and 
taking a circuitous route, avoided pursuit, and travelling on- 
ly during the night, they at length arrived safely at Louis- 
ville, after a march of thirty days. 

Thus terminated one of the most remarkable adventures 
in the whole range of western history. A fatalist would re- 
cognize the hand of destiny in every stage of its progress. 
In the infatuation with which Kenton refused to adopt proper 
measures for his safety, while such were practicable — in 
the persevering obstinacy with which he remained upon the 
Ohio shore, until flight became useless; and afterwards, in 
that remarkable succession of accidents, by which, without 
the least exertion on his part, he was alternately tantalized 
with a prospect of safety, and then plunged again into the 
deepest despair. He was eight times exposed to the gaunt- 
let — three times tied to the stake — and as often thought him- 
self upon the eve of a terrible death. All the sentences 
passed upon him, whether of mercy or condemnation, seem- 
ed to have been only pronounced in one council, in order to 
be reversed in another. Every friend that Providence rais- 
ed up in his favor, was immediately followed by some ene- 
my, who unexpectedly interposed, and turned his short 
glimpse of sunshine into deeper darkness than ever. For 
three weeks, he was see-sawing between life and death, and 
during the whole time, hf was perfectly passive. No wis- 
dom, or foresight, or exertion, could have saved him. For- 
tune fought his battle from first to last, and seemed determin- 
ed to permit nothing else to interfere. Scarcely had he reach- 
ed Kentucky, when he embarked in a new enterprize. 






WESTERN ADVENTUEE. I2p, 

Col. G UMMi g c Rogers Clarke had projected an expedition a-^2S2 
gainst the hostile posts of Vincennes and Kaskaskia, and in- 
vited all Kentuckians, who had leisure and inclination, to 
join him. Kenton instantly repaired to his standard, and 
shared in the hardship and glory of one of the boldest, most 
arduous and successful expeditions, which have ever graced 
the American arms. The results of the campaign are well 
known. Secrecy and celerity were eminently combined in 
it, and Clarke shared with the common soldier, in encounter- 
ing every fatigue, and braving every danger. Kenton, as 
usual, acted as a spy, and was eminently serviceable, but no 
incident occurred, of sufficient importance to obtain a place 
in these sketches. 

From that time, until the close of the Indian war in the 
west, Kenton was actively employed, generally in a fron- 
tier station, and occasionally in serious expeditions. He ac- 
companied Edwards in his abortive expedition against the 
Indian towns in 1785, and shared in Wayne's decisive cam- 
paign of '94. But, as his life will shortly be published, in a 
separate volume, it is unnecessary to pursue the subject far- 
ther in a sketch like the present. He is now living on Mad 
river, in the Ohio state, near the scene of his former adven- 
tures. His once gigantic form is now broken by age; and 
his last days, will probably be spent in poverty and neglect 

II* 



126 



SKETCHES or 



CHAPTER IV. 

Among the earliest and most respectable of the emigrants 
to Kentucky, was General Benjamin Logan. His father 
was an Irishman, who had left his own country early in the 
18th century, and settled in Pennsylvania, from which he 
subsequently removed to Augusta county, Virginia. Here 
he shortly afterwards died. Young Logan, as the eldest son, 
was entitled by the laws of Virginia, to the whole of the 
landed property, (his father having died intestate.) He re- 
fused, however, to avail himself of this circumstance, and as 
the farm upon which the family resided was too small to ad- 
mit of a division, he caused it to be sold, and the money to 
be distributed among his brothers and sisters, reserving a por- 
tion for his mother. At the age of twenty one, he removed 
from Augusta county, to the banks of the Hoiston, where 
shortly afterwards, he purchased a farm and married. In 
1774, he accompanied Dunmore in his expedition, probably 
as a private. In '75, he removed to Kentucky, and soon be- 
came particularly distinguished. His person was striking 
and manly, his hair and compelexion very dark, his eye 
keen and penetrating, his countenance grave, thoughtful and 
expressive of a firmness, probity and intelligence, which 
were eminently displayed throughout his life. His education 
was very imperfect, and confined, we believe, simply, to the 
arts of reading and writing. Having remained in Kentuc- 
ky, in a very exposed situation, until the spring of '76, he 
returned for his family, and brought them out to a small set- 
tlement, called Logan's fort, not far from Harrodsburgh. 
The Indians during this summer were so numerous and dar- 
ing in their excursions^ that Logan was compelled to remove 



WESTERN ADVE3STURE. 127 

Ms wife and family, for safety, to Harrodsburgh, while he 
himself remained at his cabins, and cultivated a crop of 
corn. 

In the spring of '77, his wife returned to Logan's fort; 
and several settlers having joined him, he determined to 
maintain himself there at all risk. His courage was soon 
put to the test. On the morning of the 20th May, a few 
days after his wife had rejoined him, the women were milk- 
ing the cows at the gate of the little fort, and some of the 
garrison attending them, when a party of Indians appeared 
and fired upon them. One man was shot dead and two 
more wounded, one of them mortally. The whole party, 
including one of the wounded men y instantly ran into the fort 
and closed the gate. The enemy quickly showed them- 
selves upon the edge of a canebrake, within close rifle shot of 
the gate, and seemed numerous and determined. Having a 
moments leisure to look around, they beheld a spectacle 
which awakened the most lively interest and compassion. 
A man named Harrison , had been severely wounded, and still 
lay near the spot where he had fallen, within full view both 
of the garrison and the enemy. The poor fellow was, at in- 
tervals, endeavoring to crawl in the direction of the fort, and 
had succeeded in reaching a cluster of bushes, which, how- 
ever, were too thin to shelter his person from the enemy. 
His wife and family were in the fort, and in deep distress at 
his situation. The enemy undoubtedly forebore to fire up- 
on him, from the supposition lhatsome of the garrison would 
attempt to s^ave him, in which case, they held themselves in 
readiness to fire upon them from the canebrake. The case 
was a very trying one. It seemed impossible to save him 
without sacrificing the lives of several of the garrison, and 
their numbers already were far too few for an effectual de- 
fence, having originally amounted only to fifteen men, three 
of whom had already been put hors de combat. Yet the 



128 SKETCHES OP 

spectacle was so moving, and the lamentation of his family 
so distressing, that it seemed equally Impossible not to make 
an effort to relieve him. Logan endeavored to persuade 
some of his men to accompany him in a sally, but so evident 
and appalling was the danger, that all at first refused, one 
Herculean fellow observing that he was a "weakly man,' 1 
and another declaring that he was sorry for Harrison, "but 
that the skin was closer than the shirt." At length, John 
Martin collected his courage, and declared his willingness to 
accompany Logan, saying that "he could only die once, and 
that he was as ready now as he ever would be." The two 
men opened the gate and started upon their forlorn expedi- 
tion, Logan leading the way. They had not advanced five 
steps, when Harrison perceiving them, made a vigorous ef- 
fort to rise, upon which Martin, supposing him able to help 
himself, immediately sprung back within the gate. Harri- 
son's strength almost instantly failed, and he fell at full 
length upon the grass. Logan paused a moment after the 
desertion of Martin, then suddenly sprung forward to the spot 
where Harrison lay, rushing through a tremendous shower 
of rifle balls, which was poured upon him from every spot a- 
round the fort, capable of covering an Indian. Seizing the 
wounded man in his arms, he ran with him to the fort, 
through the same heavy fire, and entered it unhurt, although 
the gate and picketing near him were riddled with balls, and 
his hat and clothes pierced in several places. 

The fort was now vigorously assailed in the Indian man 
ner, and as vigorously defended by the garrison. The wo- 
men were all employed in moulding bullets, while the men 
were constantly at their posts. The weakness of the garri- 
son was not their only grievance. A distressing scarcity of 
ammunition prevailed, and no supply could be procured near- 
er than Holston. But how was it to be obtained? The fort 
was closely blockaded-— the Indians were swarming in the 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 12& 

woods, and chances were sadly against the probability of 
the safe passage of any courier through so many dangers ! 
Under these circumstances, Logan determined to take the 
dangerous office upon himself. After encouraging the men 
as well as he could, with the prospect of a safe and speedy 
return, he took advantage of a dark night, and crawled 
through the Indian encampment without discovery. Shun- 
ning the ordinary route through Cumberland Gap, he arrived 
at Holston by by-paths which no white man had yet trodden — 
through canebrakes and thickets ; over tremendous cliffs and 
precipices, where the deer could scarcely obtain footing, and 
where no vestige of any of the human family could be seen. 
Having obtained a supply of powder and lead, he returned 
through the same almost inaccessible paths to the fort, which 
he found still besieged and now reduced to extremity. The 
safe return of their leader inspired them with fresh courage, 
and in a few days, the appearance of Col. Bowman's party, 
compelled the Indians to retire. 

During the whole of this and the next year, the Indians* 
were exceedingly troublesome. The Shawnees particular- 
ly, distinguished themselves by the frequency and inveterate 
nature of their incursions; and as their capitol, Chillicothe*. 
was within striking distance, an expedition was set on foot 
against it in 1779, in which Logan served as second in com- 
mand, Capt. James Harrod and John Bulger, accompanied 
the expedition — the former of whom, shortly afterwards, per- 
ished in a lonely ramble — and the latter was killed at the 
Blue Licks. Col. Bowman commanded in chief, The de- 
tachment amounted to one hundred and sixty men ;• consist- 
ed entirely of volunteers, accustomed to Indian warfare, 
and was well officered, with the exception of its commander. 
They left Harrodsburg in July, and took their preliminary 
measures so well, that they arrived within a mile of Chilli^ 
$othe, without giving the slightest alarm to the enemy, Here 



130 SKETCHE9 OF 

the detachment halted at an early hour in the night, and as 
usual, sent out spies to examine the condition of the village. 
Before midnight they returned, and reported that the enemy 
remained unapprised of their being in the neighborhood, 
and were in the most unmilitary security. The army was 
instantly put in motion. It was determined that Logan, 
with one half of the men, should turn to the left and march 
half way around the town, while Bowman, at the head of 
the remainder, should make a corresponding march to the 
right; that both parties should proceed in silence, until they 
had met at the opposite extremity of the village, when, hav- 
ing thus completely encircled it, the attack was to commeace. 
Logan, who was bravery itself, performed his part of the 
combined operation, with perfect order, and in profound si- 
lence ; and having reached the designated spot, awaited with 
impatience the arrival of his commander. Hour after hour 
stole away, but Bowman did not appear. At length daylight 
appeared. Logan still expecting the arrival of his Colonel, 
ordered the men to conceal themselves in the high grass, and 
await the expected signal to attack. No orders, however, 
arrived. In the mean time, the men, in shifting about 
through the grass, alarmed an Indian dog, the only sentinel 
on duty. He instantly began to bay loudly, and advanced 
in the direction of the man who had attracted his attention. 
Presently a solitary Indian left his cabin, and walked cau- 
tiously towards the party, halting frequently, rising upon tip* 
loes, and gazing around him. Logan's party lay close, with 
the hope of taking him, without giving the alarm; but at that 
instant a gun was fired in an opposite quarter of the town, 
as was afterwards ascertained by one of Bowman's party, and 
the Indian, giving one shrill whoop, ran swiftly back to the 
council house. Concealment was now impossible. Logan's 
party instantly sprung up from the grass, and rushed upon 
the village, not doubting for a moment that they would bo 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 131 

gallantly supported. As they advanced, they perceived In- 
dians of all ages and of both sexes running to the great cab- 
in, near the centre of the town, where they collected in full 
force and appeared determined upon an obstinate defence 
Logan instantly took possession of the houses which had 
been deserted, and rapidly advancing from cabin to cabin, at 
length established his detachment within close rifle shot of 
the Indian redoubt. He now listened impatiently for the ti- 
ring which should have been heard from the opposite ex- 
tremity of the town, where he supposed Bowman's party to 
be, but to his astonishment, every thring remained quiet in 
that quarter. In the mean time his own position had become 
critical. The Indians had recovered from their panic, and 
kept up a close and heavy fire upon the cabins which cov- 
ered his men. He had pushed his detachment so close to 
the redoubt, that they could neither advance nor retreat 
without great exposure. The enemy outnumbered him, arid 
gave indications of a disposition to turn both flanks of h.s 
position, and thus endanger his retreat. Under these cir- 
cumstances, ignorant of the condition of his commander, 
and cut off from communication with him, he formed the bold 
and judicious resolution, to make a moveable breast work of 
the planks which formed the floor of the cabins, and under 
cover of it, to rush upon the strong hold of the enemy and 
carry it by main force. Had this gallant determination been 
carried into effect, and had the movement been promptly se- 
conded, as it ought to have been by Bowman, the conflict 
would have been bloody, and the victory decisive. Most 
probably not an Indian would have escaped, and the con- 
sternation which such signal vengeance would have spread 
throughout the Indian tribes, might have repressed their in- 
cursions for a considerable time. But before the necessary 
steps could be taken, a messenger arrived from Bowman, 
vith orders "to retreat. ! M 



132 



SKETCHES OF 



Astonished at such an order, at a time when honor and 
♦safety required an offensive movement on their part, Lo- 
gan hastily asked if Bowman had been overpowered by the 
«iemy? No! Had he ever beheld an enemy? No! What 
then, was the cause of this extraordinary abandonment of a 
design so prosperously begun? He did not know — the Co- 
lonel had ordered a retreat ! Logan, however reluctantly, 
was compelled to obey. A retreat is always a dispiriting 
movement, and with militia, is almost certain to terminate in 
a complete route. As soon as the men were informed of the 
order, a most irregular and tumultuous scene commenced. 
r ?Jot being buoyed up by the mutual confidence which is 
-the offspring of discipline, and which sustains regular soldiers 
under all circumstances, they no longer acted in concert. 
Bach man selected the time, manner and route of his retreat 
for himself. Here a solitary Kentuckian would start up 
from behind a stump, and scud away through the grass, 
<Jodging and turning to avoid the balls which whistled around 
im. There a dozen men would run from a cabin, and scat- 
er in every direction, each anxious to save himself, and 
none having leisure to attend to their neighbors. The Indi- 
ans, astonished at seeing men route themselves in this man- 
ner, sallied out of their redoubts and pursued the stragglers, 
as sportsmen would cut up a scattered flook of wild geese. 
They soon united themselves to Bowman's party, who from 
some unaccountable panic of their commander or fault in 
themselves, had stood stock still near the spot where Logan 
had left them the night before. All was confusion. Some 
cursed their Colonel ; some reproached other officers — one 
shouted one thing ; one bellowed another ; but all seemed to a- 
gree that they ought to make the best of their way home, 
without the loss of a moment's time. By great exertions on 
the part of Logan, well seconded by Harrod, Bulger and the 
present Major Bedinger, of the Blue Licks, some degree of 



WESTERN AD VEIN TUBE. 133 

order was restored, and a tolerably respectable retreat com- 
menced. The Indians, however, soon surrounded them on 
all sides, and kept up a hot fire which began to grow fataL 
Col. Bowman appeared totally demented, and sat upon his 
horse like a pillar of stone, neither giving an order, nor ta- 
king any measures to repel the enemy. The sound of the 
rifle shots, however, had completely restored the men to 
their senses, and they readily formed in a large hollow square, 
took trees and returned the fire with equal vivacity. The 
enemy w T as quickly repelled, and the troops re-commenced 
their march. 

But, scarcely had they advanced half a mile, when the 
Indians re-appeared, and again opened a fire upon the front, 
rear, and both flanks. Again, a square was formed and the 
enemy repelled: but scarcely had the harrassed troops re- 
commenced their march, when the same galling fire was 
opened upon them from every tree, bush and stone capable 
of concealing an Indian. Matters now began to look seri- 
ous. The enemy were evidently endeavoring to detain 
them, until fresh Indians could come up in sufficient force to 
compel them to lay down their arms. The men began to 
be unsteady, and the panic was rapidly spreading from the 
Colonel to the privates. At this crisis, Logan, Harrod, Be- 
dinger, &c, selected the boldest, and best mounted men, and 
dashing into the bushes on horseback, scoured the woods in 
every direction, forcing the Indians from their coverts, and 
cutting down as many as they could overtake. This deci- 
sive step completely dispersed the enemy — and the weary 
and dispirited troops continued their retreat unmolested. 
They lost nine killed and a few others wounded. But the 
loss of reputation on the part of the Colonel, was incalcu- 
lable, for, as usual, Ac was the scapegoat upon whose head 
the disgrace of the miscarriage was laid. No good reason 
has ever been assigned for the extraordinary failure of his 

12 



134 SKETCHES OF 

own detachment, and the subsequent panic, which he dis- 
played, when harrassed in the wood, afford room for suspi- 
cion, that either the darkness of the night, or the cry of an 
owl (for he did not see the face of an enemy,) had robbed 
the Colonel of his usual courage. 

It may here be remarked, that the propriety of combin- 
ed operations with irregular troops, is at least doubtful. Dif- 
ferent corps, moving by different routes upon the same point, 
are liable to miscarriage from so many causes, that the meas- 
ure is scarcely ever attended with success, unless when the 
troops are good, the officers intelligent and unanimous, and 
the ground perfectly understood. The intervention of a 
creek, the ignorance of a guide, or the panic of an officer, 
as in the case of Bowman, may destroy the unity of the op- 
eration, and expose the detachment which has reached its sta- 
tion in proper time to be cut off. The signal failure of Wash- 
ington at Germantown,may, in a great measure, be attribu- 
ted to the complicated plan of attack, as the several divis- 
ions arrived at different times, attacked without concert, and 
were beaten in detail. I can scarcely recollect a single in- 
stance, save the affair of Trenton, in which raw troops have 
succeeded by combined operations, and many miscarriages 
in our own annals, may be attributed to that circumstance. 
Logan returned to Kentucky with a reputation increased, 
rather than diminished, by the failure of the expedition. 
His conduct was placed in glaring contrast to that of his 
unfortunate commander, and the praise of the one was in ex- 
act correspondence to the censure of the other. 

No other affair of consequence occurred, until the rash 
and disastrous battle of the Blue Licks, in which as we have 
seen, Logan was unable to share. He seems to have re- 
mained quietly engaged in agricultural pursuits, until the 
summer of '88, when he conducted an expedition against 
the north western tribes, which as usual, terminated in bur- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 135 

ning their villages, and cutting up their cornfields, ser- 
ving to irritate, but not to subdue the enemy. A single in- 
cident attending this expedition, deserves to be commemora- 
ted. Upon approaching a large village of the Shawanees, 
from which, as usual, most of the inhabitants had fled, au 
old chief named Moluntha, came out to meet them, fantasti- 
cally dressed in an old cocked hat, set jauntily upon one 
side of his head, and t a fine shawl thrown over his shoulders. 
He carried an enormous pipe in one hand, and a tobacco 
pouch in the other, and strutted out with the air of an old 
French beaux to smoke the pipe of peace with his enemies, 
whom he found himself unable to meet in the field. Nothing 
could be more striking, than the fearless confidence with 
which he walked through the foremost ranks of the Kentuc- 
kians. evidently highly pleased with his own appearance, 
and enjoying the admiration which he doubted not, that his 
cocked hat and splendid shawl inspired. Many of the Ken- 
tuckians were highly amused at the mixture of dandyism 
and gallantry which the poor old man exhibited, and shook 
hands with him very cordially. Unfortunately, however, 
he at length approached Major McGary, whose temper, ne 
ver particularly sweet, was as much inflamed by the sight 
of an Indian, as that of a wild bull by the waving of a red 
flag. It happened, unfortunately too, that Moluntha had 
been one of the chiefs who commanded at the Blue Licks, a 
disaster which McGary had not yet forgotten. Instead of 
giving his hand as the others had done, McGary scowled 
upon the old man, and asked him if "he recollected the Blue 
Licks!" Moluntha smiled and merely repeated the word 
"Blue Licks!"— When McGary instantly drew his toma- 
hawk and cleft him to the brain. The old man received the 
blow without flinching for a second, and fell dead at the feet 
of his destroyer. Great excitement instantly prevailed in 
the army. Some called it a ruthless murder— and others 



136 SKETCHES OF 

swore that he had done right — that an Indian was not to be 
regarded as a human being — but ought to be shot down as a 
wolf whenever and wherever he appeared. McGary him- 
self raved like a madman at the reproach of his countrymen, 
and declared, with many bitter oaths, that he would not only 
kill every Indian whom he met, whether in peace or war, 
at church or market, but that he would equally as readily 
romahawk the man who blamed him for the act. 

Nothing else, worthy of being mentioned, occurred during 
the expedition, and Logan, upon his return, devoted himself 
exclusively to the civil affairs of the country? which about 
this time began to assume an important aspect. The reader 
who is desirous of understanding the gradations by which, 
from a simple society of woodsmen, Kentucky became 
transformed into a boiling vortex of political fury, intrigue 
and dissension, will do well to consult Mr. Marshall's histo- 
ry, which, although possessing some peculiarities of opin- 
ion, and occasional eccentricities of style, will be found to 
contain a strong, clear and sagacious view of the political 
events, which succeeded the peace of 1783, 



WESTERN ADV£NTTHS. 137 



CHAPTER V. 

During the whole of the Revolutionary war, the Indians 
had been extremely troublesome to the back counties of 
Pennsylvania and Virginia, particularly to those of Wash- 
ington, Youghogany and Westmoreland. In the early part 
of the year 1782, however, these irregular excursions be- 
came so galling, that an expedition was concerted against 
the Wyandott village, lying upon the waters of the Sandus- 
ky- Great exertions were made to procure volunteers. Ev- 
ery man who should equip himself with a horse and rifle, 
was to be exempted from two tours of militia duty ; and any 
1 333, either of arms or horses, was to be repaired out of the 
plunder of the Indian towns. The volunteers were to ren- 
dezvous on the 20th of May, at an old Mingo village, on the 
western shore of the Ohio, about forty miles above fort Pitt, 
and the unfortunate Col. William Crawford was unan- 
imously selected as the leader of the expedition. On the 
appointed day, four hundred and fifty mounted volunteers 
assembled at the Mingo village* and impatiently awaited the 
arrival of their Colonel. Crawford instantly accepted the 
appointment, which had been so unanimously pressed upon 
him, and a few days before the day of rendezvous, passed 
through Pittsburgh, on his way to the appointed place. He 
there prevailed upon Dr. Knight to accompany the detach- 
ment as surgeon, and having provided such medical stores as 
were likely to be useful on the expedition, he lost no time in 
putting himself at the head of the troops. 

On Saturday, the 25th of May, the little army commenced 
its march, striking at once into a pathless wilderness, and 
directing their course due west. On the fourth day, they 

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138 



SKETCHES OF 



halted at the ruins of the old Moravian town, about sixty- 
miles from the Ohio, where a few of the volunteers gave a 
sample of the discipline which was to be expected from the 
party, by abandoning the detachment and returning home. 
The main body, however, still seemed eager to prosecute the 
expedition, and the march was continued with unabated 
spirit. On the morning of the 30th, Major Brunton and Cap- 
tain Bean, being a few bunded yards in advance of the troops, 
observed two Indians, skulking through the woods r appa- 
rently observing the motions of the detachment. They in- 
stantly fired upon them, but without success. Secrecy now 
being out of the question, it only remained to press forward 
with all practicable dispatch, and afford the enemy as little 
time for preparation as possible. As the wilderness began 
to deepen around them, and the critical moment approached 
in which their courage would be tried, it became evident that 
the ardor of the men was considerably cooled. 

On the eleventh day of their march, they reached the spot 
where the town of Sandusky had formerly stood, but from 
which the Indians had lately removed to a spot about eigh- 
teen miles below. Here the detachment halted, and here 
the insubordinate spirit of the army, first displayed itself. 
They insisted upon returning home, alleging the tired con- 
dition of their horses, and the fact, that their provisions were 
likely soon to be exhausted. The officers, yielding to the wish- 
es of their constituents, (for the troops had elected their own 
officers,) determined, in council, that they would continue 
their march for one day longer, and if no Indians appeared, 
they would then return home! What other result than that 
which we are now about to record, could have been anticipa- 
ted from such officers and such men ? Just as the council 
broke up, a single lighthorseman belonging to the advanced 
guard rode in at a gallop, announcing that a large body of In- 
dians were formed in an open wood, a few miles in advance,, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 139 

and seemed determined to arrest the farther progress of the 
invaders. Instant preparations were made for battle. The 
troops, notwithstanding their previous murmurs, advanced 
with alacrity, and soon came up with the light horsemen, 
who were slowly retiring within view of the enemy. The 
country was generally open, and well adapted to the opera- 
tions of cavalry. Here and there a thin copse of woodland 
appeared, generally free from undergrowth, and giving to 
each party a full view of their enemy's movements. The 
Indians had partially obtained possession of one of these 
copses, although their full force had not yet come up. The 
importance of seizing the wood was instantly seen, and 
Crawford hastily ordered his men to dismount, tie their hor- 
ses, and force the enemy from their position, before their re- 
inforcements could arrive. This judicious order was prompt- 
ly and effectually obeyed. Both flanks of the Indian posi 
tion were immediately turned, and a rapid and threatening- 
movement upon their front quickly compelled them to give 
way. Crawford now took possession of ihe wood, but scarce- 
ly had he done so, when the main body of the enemy hur- 
ried up to the assistance of their van, and outflanking Craw- 
ford in turn, opened a heavy and galling fire upon his mem 
from which they found it very difficult toob f ain proper shel- 
ter. The action now became sharp and serious — Crawford 
maintaining his ground, and the enemy, (who were hourly 
increasing in number,) making the most strenuous efforts to 
regain the wood. From four in the evening until dusk, the 
firing was very heavy, and the less considerable. During 
the whole of this time, scarcely an Indian was visible^ un- 
less for a moment, when shifting his position. Their num- 
ber could only be ascertained, from the many wreaths of 
smoke, which arose from every bush, tree, or tuft of grass 
within view. At night the enemy drew off, and Crawford's 
party slept upon their arms upon the field of battle. 



140 SKETCHES OF 

On the next day the attack was renewed, but at a more re- 
spectful distance. The Indians had apparently sustained 
some loss on the close firing of the preceding evening, and 
seemed now determined to await the arrival of additional 
reinforcements. Occasional shots were fired through the 
day, on both sides, but without much injury to either. As 
soon as it was dark, the field officers assembled in council — 
and as the numbers of the enemy were evidently increasing 
every moment, it was unanimously determined to retreat by 
night, as rapidly as was consistent with order, and the pres- 
ervation of the wounded. The resolution was quickly an- 
nounced to the troops, and the necessary dispositions made 
for carrying it into effect. The outposts were silently with- 
drawn from the vicinity of the enemy, and as fast as they 
came in, the troops were formed in three parallel lines, 
with the wounded, borne upon biers, in the centre. By nine 
o'clock at night, all necessary arrangements had been made, 
and the retreat began in good order. Unfortunately, they 
had scarely moved an hundred paces, when the report of 
several rifles were heard in the rear, in the direction of the 
Indian encampment. The troops instantly became very 
unsteady. At length, a solitary voice, in the front rank, cal- 
led out, that their design was discovered, and that the Indi- 
ans would soon be upon them. Nothing more was necessary. 
The cavalry were instantly broken — and as usual, each man 
endeavored to save himself as he best could. A prodigious 
uproar ensued, which quickly communicated to the enemy, 
that the white men had routed themselves, and that they had 
nothing to do but pick up stragglers. The miserable woun- 
ded, notwithstanding the piercing cries with which they sup- 
plicated to be taken with them, were abandoned to the mer 
cy of the enemy and soon put out of pain. 

Dr. Knight, the surgeon of the detachment, was in the 
rear when the flight commenced, but seeing the necessity of 



WESTERN ADVENTURE % 141 

despatch, he put spurs to his horse and galloped through the 
wood as fast as the darkness of the night would permit. He 
had not advanced more than three hundred yards, when he 
heard the voice of Col. Crawford, a short distance in front, 
calling aloud for his son John Crawford, his son-in-law Ma- 
jor Harrison, and his two nephews, Major Rose and William 
Crawford. Dr. Knight replied in the same loud tone, that 
he believed the young men were in front, "Is that you, 
Doctor?" asked Crawford, eagerly — for no features could be 
recognised in the darkness. "Yes, Colonel ! — I am the hind- 
most man I believe !" "No, No!" replied Crawford, anx- 
iously, "my son is in the rear yet — I have not been able to 
hear of him in front ! — Do not leave me, Doctor, my horse 
has almost given out — I cannot keep up with the troops — 
and wish a few of my best friends to stay with me !" Knight 
assured him, that he might rely upon his support in any ex- 
tremity, and drew up his horse by his side. Col. Crawford 
still remained upon the same spot, calling loudly for his son,, 
until the last straggler had passed. He then in strong lan- 
guage reprobated the conduct of the militia, in breaking their 
ranks, and abandoning the wounded, — but quickly returned 
to the subject of his son — and appeared deeply agitated at 
the uncertainty of his fate. Perceiving, however, that fur- 
ther delay must terminate in death or captivity, the party 
set spurs to their horses and followed the route of the troops. 
Presently an old m an and a lad joined. them. Crawford ea- 
gerly asked if they had seen his son or nephews? They 
assured him that they had not, upon which he sighed deeply, 
but made no reply. At this instant, a heavy fire was heard 
at the distance of a mile in front — accompanied by yells, 
screams, and all the usual attendants of battle. Not a doubt 
was entertained that the Indians had intercepted the retreat 
of the main body, and were now engaged with them. Hav- 
ing lost all confidence in his men, Crawford did dot choose to, 



142 SKETCHES OF 

unite his fortune to theirs, and changed his course, to the 
northward, in such a manner as to leave the combatants up- 
on the left. He continued in this direction for nearly an 
hour, until he supposed himself out of the immediate line of 
the e nemy's operations, when he again changed his course 
to the eastward, moving as rapidly as possible, with an in- 
terval of twenty paces between them, and steadily regula- 
ting their route by the north star. The boy who accompa- 
nied them was brisk and active, but the old man constantly 
lagged behind, and as constantly shouted aloud for them to 
wait for him. They often remonstrated with him on the 
impropriety of making so much noise, at a time when all 
their lives depended upon secrecy and celerity, and he re- 
peatedly promised to do so no more. At length, upon cros- 
sing Sandusky creek 7 the old man found himself once more 
considerably in the rear, and 1 once more shouted aloud for 
them to wait, until he could come up. Before they could re- 
ply a halloo w r as heard, in the rear of their left, and appa- 
rently not more than one hundred paces from the spot where 
the old man stood. Supposing it to be the cry of an Indian,, 
they remained still and silent for several minutes, looking 
keenly around them ki the expectation of beholding an en- 
emy. Every things however, continued silent. The old man 
was heard no more, and whether he escaped, or was killed, 
could never be ascertained. The party continued their 
flight until daybreak, when Col. Crawford's horse and that 
of the boy, sunk under their riders, and were abandoned. 
Continuing their journey on foot, they quickly fell in with 
Captain Biggs, an expert woodsman and gallant officer, who, 
in the universal scattering, had generously brought off a 
wounded officer, Lieut. Ashley, upon his own horse, and was 
now composedly walking by his side, with a rifle in his hand 
and a knapsack upon his shoulders. This casual meeting 
was gratifying to both parties, and they continued their jour- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 143 

ney with renewed spirits. At three o'clock in the afternoon 
a heavy rain fell, and compelled them to encamp. A tem- 
porary shelter was quickly formed by barking several trees, 
after the manner of the Indians, and spreading the bark 
over poles so as to form a roof. A fire was then kindled, and 
the rain continued to pour down in torrents. They remain- 
ed here through the night, without any accident. Continu- 
ing their route on the following morning, at the distance of 
three miles from the camp, they found a deer, which had re- 
cently been killed and skinned. The meat was neatly 
sliced and bundled up in the skin — and a tomahawk lay 
near — giving room for suspicion that Indians were in the 
neighborhood. As the whole party had fasted for thirty six 
hours, this was a very acceptable treat, and lifting the'skin, 
with the meat enclosed from the ground, they carried it w T ith 
them until they had leisure to cook it. Having advanced a 
mile further, they observed a smoke in the woods, before 
them. The party instantly halted, whUe Col. Crawford 
and Dr. Knight advanced to reconnoitre. Cautiously ap- 
proaching the fire, they found it burning brightly, but aban- 
doned, from which they inferred that a party had encamped 
there the preceding night, and had retired a few minutes be- 
fore their approach. Having carefully examined the bush- 
es around, and discovered no Indian sign, they directed their 
friends in the rear to come up, and quickly sat about prepar- 
ing breakfast. In a few minutes they observed a white man, 
skulking in the rear, examining the trail and apparently ve- 
ry shy of approaching them. Calling out to him in a friend- 
ly tone, they invited him to approach without fear, assuring 
him that they were countrymen and friends. The man in- 
stantly complied, and informed them that he had killed the 
deer which they were cooking, but hearing them approach, 
he had taken them for enemies, and had fled into the bushes 
for concealment. 



144 SKETCHES OF 

Highly pleased at this further accession to their strength, 
the party breakfasted heartily upon the deer — and continu- 
ed their march. By noon, they had reached the path by 
which the army had marched a few days before, in their ad- 
vance upon the Indian towns, and some discussion took 
place as to the propriety of taking that road homeward. 
Biggs and the Doctor strenuously insisted upon continuing 
their course through the woods, and avoiding all paths, but 
Crawford overruled them, assuring them that the Indians 
would not urge the pursuit beyond the plains, which were 
already far behind. Unfortunately, the Colonel prevailed, 
and abandoning their due eastern course, the party pursued 
the beaten path. Crawford and Knight moved one hundred 
and fifty yards in front, Biggs and his wounded friend Ashley 
were in the centre, both on horseback, the Doctor having 
lent Biggs his horse, and the two men on foot brought up the 
rear. They soon had reason to repent their temerity. Scarce- 
ly had they advanced a mile, when several Indians sprung 
up within twenty yards of Knight and Crawford, presented 
their guns and in good English ordered them to stop. Knight 
instantly sprung behind a large black oak, cocked his gun 
and began to take aim at the foremost. Crawford, however, 
did not attempt to conceal himself — but calling hastily to 
Knight, ordered him twice not to fire. Instantly the Indian, 
at whom Knight had taken aim, ran up to the Colonel with 
everv demonstration of friendship, shook his hand cordially 
and asked him how he did. Knight still maintaining a hos- 
tile attitude behind the tree, Crawford called to him again, 
and ordered him to put down his gun, which the Doctor ve- 
ry reluctantly obeyed. Biggs and Ashley, seeing the con- 
dition of their friends, halted, while the two men in the rear 
very prudently took to their heels and escaped. One of the 
Indians then told Crawford to order Biggs to come up and 
surrender or they would kill him. The Colonel complied, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 145 

but Biggs, feeling no inclination to obey his commander in 
the present instance, very coolly cocked his rifle, took delib 
erate aim at one of the Indians, and fired, although without 
effect. He and Ashley then put spurs to their horses and for 
the time escaped. The two prisoners were then taken to 
the Indian camp, which stood within a few miles of the place 
where they were taken — and on the next evening, five Dela- 
wares came in with the scalps and horses of Biggs and Ash- 
ley, who it appeared, had returned to the road, and were in- 
tercepted a few miles further on. 

On the morning, which was the 10th of June, Crawford 
and Knight, together with nine more prisoners, were con- 
ducted by their captors, seventeen in number, to the old town 
of Sandusky, about thirty three miles distant. The main bo- 
dy halted at night, within eight miles of the village, but as 
Col. Crawford expressed great anxiety to speak with Simon 
Girty, who was then at Sandusky, he was permitted to go on 
that evening, under the care of two Indians. On Tuesday 
morning, the 11th of June, Col. Crawford was brought back 
from Sandusky on purpose to march into town with the other 
prisoners. Knight eagerly accosted him, and asked if he 
had seen Girty? The Colonel replied in the affirmative — 
and added, that Girty had promised to use his utmost influ- 
ence for his (the Colonel's) safety — but was fearful of the 
consequences, as the Indians generally, and particularly 
Captain Pipe, one of the Delaware chiefs, were much in- 
censed against the prisoners, and were endeavoring to have 
them all burned. The Colonel added, that he had heard of 
his son-in-law, Col. Harrison, and his nephew, William 
Crawford, both of whom had been taken by the Shawanees, 
and admitted to mercy. Shortly after this communication, 
their capital enemy, Captain Pipe appeared. His appear- 
ance was by no means unprepossessing, and he exhibited 
inone of the ferocity, which Knight, from Girty's account, 

13 



146 SKETCHES OF 

had been led to expect. On the contrary, his manners were 
bland and his language flattering. But one ominous circum- 
stance attended his visit. With his own hands, he painted 
every prisoner black! While in the act of painting the Doc- 
tor, he was as polite and affectionate as a French valet, as- 
suring him that he should soon go to the Shawanee town 
and see his friends; and while painting the Colonel, he told 
him that his head should be shaved, i e., he should be adop- 
ted, as soon as he arrived at the Wyandott town. As soon 
is the prisoners were painted, they were conducted towards 
:he town, Capt. Pipe walking by the side of Crawford, and 
treating him with the utmost kindness, while the other pris- 
oners, with the exception of Doctor Knight, were pushed on 
ahead of him. 

As they advanced, they were shocked at observing the 
bodies of four of their friends, who had just left them, ly- 
ing near the path, tomahawked and scalped, with an inter, 
val of nearly a mile between each. They had evidently 
perished in running the gauntlet. This spectacle was re- 
garded as a sad presage of their own fate. In a short time 
they overtook the five prisoners who remained alive. They 
were seated on the ground, and appeared much dejected. 
Nearly seventy squaws and Indian boys surrounded them, 
menacing them with knives and tomahawks, and exhausting 
upon them every abusive epithet which their language affor- 
ded. Crawford and Knight were compelled to sit down a- 
part from the rest, and immediately afterwards, the Doctor 
was given to a Shawanee warrior, to be conducted to their 
town, while the Colonel remained stationary. The boys 
and squaws , then fell upon the other prisoners, and toma- 
hawked them in a moment. Among them was Captain Mc- 
Kinley, who had served with reputation throughout the rev- 
olutionary war until the capture of Cornwallis. An old 
withered hag approached him, brandishing a long knife, and 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 147 

seizing him by the hair, instantly cut off his head and kick- 
ed it near the spot where Crawford sat in momentary expec- 
tation of a similar fate. Another destiny, however, was re- 
served for him. After having sufficiently exhausted their 
rage upon the lifeless bodies of the five prisoners, the whole 
party started up, and driving Crawford before them, march- 
ed towards the village. Presently, Girty appeared on horse- 
back, coming from Sandusky. He stopped for a few mo- 
ments, and spoke to Crawford — then passing to the rear of 
the party, addressed Knight: "Is this the'Doctor?" enquired 
he, with an insulting smile. "Yes! Mr. Girty, I am glad to 
see you P replied poor Knight, advancing towards him, and 
anxiously extending his hand. But Girty cursed him in a 
savage tone, ordered him to begone and not to suppose that 
he would give his hand to such a — — rascal. Upon this, 
the Shawanee warrior who had him in custody, dragged 
him along by a rope. Girty followed on horseback, and in- 
formed him that he was to go to Chillicothe. Presently they 
came to a spot where there was a large fire, around which 
about thirty warriors, and more than double that number of 
boys and squaws were collected, As soon as the Colonel ar- 
rived, they surrounded him, stripped him naked, and com 
pelled him to sit on the ground near the fire. They then fell 
upon him, and beat him severely with sticks and their fists. 
In a few minutes a large stake was fixed in the ground, and 
piles of hickory poles, rather thicker than a man's thumb, 
and about twelve feet in length, were spread around it. Col. 
Crawford's hands were then tied behind his back — a strong- 
rope was produced, one end of which was fastened to the 
ligature between his wrists, and the other tied to the bottom 
of the stake. The rope was long enough to permit him to 
walk around the stake several times and then return. 
Fire was then applied to the hickory poles, which lay in 
piles at the distance of six or seven yards from the stake: 



148 SKETCHES OF 

The Colonel observing these terrible preparations, called to 
Girty, who sat on horseback, at the distance of a few yards 
from the fire, and asked if the Indians were going to burn 
him. Girty very coolly replied in the affirmative. The 
Colonel heard the intelligence with firmness, merely obser- 
ving, that he would bear it with fortitude. When the hicko- 
ry poles had been burnt asunder in the middle, Capt. Pipe 
arose and addressed the crowd, in a tone of great energy, 
and with animated gestures, pointing frequently to the Colo- 
nel, who regarded him with an appearance of unruffled com- 
posure. As soon as he had ended, a loud whoop burst from 
the assembled throng, and they all rushed at once upon the 
unfortunate Crawford. For several seconds, the crowd was 
so great around him, that Knight could not see what they 
were doing — but in a short time, they had dispersed suffi- 
ciently to give him a view of the Colonel. His ears had 
been cut off, and the blood was streaming down each side of 
his face. A terrible scene of torture now commenced. The 
warriors shot charges of powder into his naked body, com- 
mencing with the calves of his legs, and continuing to his 
neck. The boys snatched the burning hickory poles and 
applied them to his flesh. As fast as he ran around the stake, 
to avoid one party of tormentors, he was promptly met at 
every turn by others, with burning poles, red hot irons, and 
rifles loaded with powder only ; so that in a few minutes near- 
ly one hundred charges of powder had been shot into his bo- 
dy, which had become black and blistered in a dreadful man- 
ner, The squaws would take up a quantity of coals and 
hot ashes, and throw them upon his body, so that in a few 
minutes he had nothing but fire to walk upon. In the ex- 
tremity of his agony, the unhappy Colonel called aloud upon 
Girty, in tones which rang through Knight's brain with mad- 
dening effect : "Girty ! Girty!! shoot me through the heart!! 
Quick! quick!! Do not refuse me!!" '-'Dont you see 



WESTEKN ADVENTURE. 149 

I have no gun, Colonel! 1 ' replied the monster, bursting into 
a loud laugh, and then turning to an Indian beside him, he 
uttered some brutal jests upon the naked and miserable ap- 
pearance of the prisoner. While this awful scene was be- 
ing acted, Girty rode up to the spot where Doctor Knight 
stood, and told him that he now had a foretaste of what was 
in reserve for him at the Shawanee towns. He swore that 
he need not expect to escape death — but should suffer it in 
all the extremity of torture I Knight, whose mind was deep- 
ly agitated at the sight of the fearful scene before him, took 
no notice of Girty, but preserved an impenetrable silence. 
Girty, after coldly contemplating the Colonel's sufferings 
for a few moments, turned again to Knight, and indulged in 
a bitter invective against a certain Col. Gibson, from whom 
he said, he had received deep injury, and dwelt upon the de- 
light with which he would see him undergo such tortures as 
those which Crawford was then suffering. He observed, in 
a taunting tone, that most of the prisoners had said, that the 
white people would not injure him, if the chance of war was 
to throw him into their power — but that for his own part, he 
should be loth to try the experiment — "I think (added he 
with a laugh,) that they would roast me alive, with more 
pleasure, than those red fellows, are now broiling the Colo- 
nel '.-—What is your opinion, Doctor? Do you think they 
would be glad to see me ?" Still Knight made no answer, 
and in a few minutes Girty rejoined the Indians. 

The terrible scene had now lasted more than two hours. 
and Crawford had become much exhausted. He walked 
slowly around the stake, spoke in a low tone, and earnestly 
besought God to look with compassion upon him, and pardon 
his sins. His nerves had lost much of their sensibility, and 
he no longer shrunk from the firebrands with which they in- 
cessantly touched him. At length he sunk in a faintingfit 
upon his face, and lay motionless. Instantly an Indian 

13* 



150 SKHTOHES OF 

sprung upon his back, knelt lightly upon one knee, made a 
circular incision with his knife upon the crown of his head, 
and clapping the knife between his teeth, tore the scalp off 
with both hands. Scarcely had this been done, when a with- 
ered hag approached with a board full of burning embers, 
and poured them upon the crown of his head, now laid bare 
to the bone. The Colonel groaned deeply, arose, and again 
walked slowly around the stake ! — But why continue a de- 
scription so horrible? Nature at length could endure no 
more, and at a late hour in the night, he was released by death 
from the hands of his tormentors. 

At sun set, Dr. Knight was removed from the ground, and 
taken to the house of Captain Pipe, where, after having 
been securely bound, he was permitted to sleep unmolested. 
On the next morning, the Indian fellow to whose care he had 
been committed, unbound him, again painted him black, 
and told him he must instantly march off for the Shawanee 
village. The Doctor was a small, weak man, and had 
sunk much under the hardship to which he had been expos- 
ed — and this, probably, was the cause of his having been 
committed un bound to the guardianship of a single Indian. 
They quickly left Sandusky, and in a few minutes passed by 
the spot where Crawford had been tortured. His flesh had 
been entirely consumed, and his bones, half burnt and black- 
ened by the fire, lay scattered around the stake. The Indi- 
an fellow who guarded him, uttered the scalp halloo, as he 
passed the spot, and insultingly told Knight, that "these were 
the bones of his Big Captain !" Knight was on foot, the 
Indian mounted on a poney and well armed, yet the Doctor 
determined to eifect his escape, or compel his enemy to shoot 
him dead upon the spot. The awful torture which Crawford 
had undergone, had left a deep impression upon his mind. 
The savage intimation of Girty was not forgotten — and he 
regarded death, by shooting, as a luxury compared with 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 151 

the protracted agony of the stake. Anxious, however^ to- 
lull the suspicious temper of the Indian, who appeared to be 
extremely vigilant, he spoke to him in a cheerful, confident 
tone, and pretended to be entirely ignorant of the fate which 
awaited him at the Shawanee town. He found the fellow 
very sociable, and apparently as simple as he could wish. 
Upon his asking if they were not to live together in the 
same cabin, like brothers, as soon as they arrived at the end 
of their journey, the Indian seemed pleased, and replied y 
"yes." He then asked the Doctor, if he could make a wig- 
wam? The Doctor boldly asserted, lhat he was a capital 
workman in wood, and could build a wigwam, to which their 
most spacious council houses were mere hovels. This as- 
sertion evidently elevated him in the Indian's esteem, and 
they continued to chat in a very friendly manner, each pro- 
bably thinking that he hail made a dupe of the other. 

After travelling about twenty five miles, they encamped 
for the night, when Knight permitted himself to be bound. 
The Indian then informed him, that they would reach the 
Shawanee village about the middle of the next day, and seem- 
ed to compose himself to rest. Knight frequently attempt- 
ed to untie himself, but was as often frustrated by the inces- 
sant vigilance of the Indian, whose dark eyes were rolling 
around him throughout the whole night. At daylight, the 
Indian arose and unbound his prisoner, who instantly de- 
termined to attempt an escape without further delay. His 
conductor did not immediately leave the spot, but began to 
rekindle their fire which had burned low, and employed him- 
self diligently in giving battle to the myriads of gnats, that 
swarmed around him, and fastened upon his naked body with 
high relish. Knight seeing him rub his back with great en 
ergy, muttering petulantly in the Indian tongue, asked if be 
should make a smoke behind him, in order to drive the gnate 
away. The Indian told hi ^ to do so, and Knight arising 



152 SKETCHES €>F 

from his seat, took the end of a dog- wood fork about eighteen 
inches in length, and putting a coal of fire between it and 
another stick, went behind the Indian as if to kindle a fire. 
Gently laying down the coal, he paused a moment to collect 
his strength, and then struck the Indian a furious blow up- 
on the back of the head, with the dog- wood stick. The fel- 
low stumbled forward, and fell with his hands in the fire- 
but instantly rising again, ran off with great rapidity, how- 
ling most dismally. Knight instantly seized the rifle which 
his enemy had abandoned and pursued him, intending to 
shoot him dead on the spot, and thus prevent pursuit — but in 
drawing back the cock of the gun too violently, he injured 
it so much that it would not go off — and the Indian frighten- 
ed out of his wits, and leaping and dodging with the activity 
of a wild cat, at length effected his escape. 

On the same day about noon, as Knight afterwards learn- 
ed from a prisoner who effected his escape, the Indian ar- 
rived at the Shawanee village, with his head dreadfully cut 
and his legs torn by the briars. He proved to be a happy mix- 
ture of the braggadocio and coward, and treated his fellows 
with a magnificent description of his contest with Knight, 
whom he represented as a giant in stature (five feet seven in- 
ches!) and a buffalo in strength and fierceness. He said 
that Knight prevailed upon him to untie him, and that while 
they were conversing like brothers, and while he himself 
was suspecting no harm, his prisoner suddenly seized a dog- 
wood sapling, and belabored him, now on this side of his 
head, now on the other, (here his gestures were very lively,) 
until he was scarcely able to stand ! That, nevertheless, he 
made a manful resistance, and stabbed his gigantic antago- 
nist twice, once in the back, and once in the belly, but seeing 
that his knife made no impression upon the strength of the 
prisoner, he was at length compelled to leave him, satisfied 
that the wounds which he had inflicted must at length prove 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 153 

mortal. The Indians were much diverted at his account of 
the affair, and laughed loud and long, evidently not believ- 
ing a syllable of the tale — at least so far as his own prowess 
was concerned. 

In the mean time, Knight finding it useless to pursue the 
Indian, to whom terror had lent wings, hastily returned to 
the fire, and taking the Indian's blanket, moccasins, bullet 
bag and powder horn, lost no time in moving off, directing 
his course towards the north east. About half an hour by sun 
he came to the plains already mentioned, which were about 
sixteen miles wide. Not choosing to cross them by day- 
light, he lay down in the high grass until dark, then guided 
by the north star, he crossed them rapidly, and before day- 
light had reached the woods on the other side. Without hal- 
ting for a moment, he continued his march until late in the 
afternoon, crossing nearly at right angles the path by which 
the troops had advanced, and moving steadily to the north- 
ward, with the hope of avoiding the enemy who might still 
be lingering upon the rear of the troops. In the evening he 
felt very faint and hungry, having tasted nothing for three 
days, and very little since his captivity u Wild gooseberries 
grew very abundantly in the woods, but being still green, 
they required mastication, which he was unable to perform, 
his jaws having been much injured by a blow from the back 
of a tomahawk. There was a weed, however, which grew 
in the woods, the juice of which was grateful to the palate, 
and nourishing to the body. Of this he sucked plentifully, 
and finding himself much refreshed, was enabled to contin- 
ue his journey. Supposing that he had now advanced suf 
nciently to the northward to baffle his pursuers, he changed 
his course and steered due east. Wishing, if possible, to 
procure some animal food, he often attempted to rectify the 
lock of his gun, supposing that it was only wood bound, but 
having no knife, he was unable to unscrew it, and was at 



154 SKETCHES OF 

length reluctantly compelled to throw it away as a useless 
burden. His jaw rapidly recovered, and he was enabled to 
chew green gooseberries, upon which, together with two 
young unfledged black birds, and one land tarapin, (both de- 
voured raw,) he managed to subsist for twenty one days. 
He swam the Muskingum a few miles below fort Lawrence, 
and crossing all paths, directed his steps to the Ohio river. 
He struck it at a few miles below fort Mcintosh on the eve- 
ning of the 21st day, and on the morning of the 22d reach- 
ed the fort in safety. 

Such was the lamentable expedition of Col. Crawford, 
rashly undertaken, injudiciously prosecuted, and termina- 
ting with almost unprecedented calamity. The insubordi- 
nate spirit of the men, together with the inadequacy of the 
force, were the great causes of the failure. The first wa$ 
incident to the nature of the force — but the second might 
have been remedied by a little consideration. Repeated dis- 
asters, however, were necessary to convince the Americans 
of the necessity of employing a sufficient force — and it was 
not until they had suffered by the experience of ten more 
^ears, that this was at length done. The defeat of Brad- 
dock had been bloody, but not disgraceful. Officers and 
soldiers died in battle,, and with arms in their hands. Not 
a man offered to leave the ground until a retreat was order- 
ed. Crawford, on the contrary, perished miserably at the 
stake, as did most of his men. They were taken in detail, 
skulking through the woods, to avoid an enemy, whom they 
might have vanquished by anion, steadiness, and courage. 
It stands upon record as one of the most calamitous and dis- 
graceful expeditions which has ever stajned the American 
arms 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 155 



CHAPTER V. 

During the old French war, John Slover, a native oi 
Virginia, was taken by a party of Miami Indians, on the 
banks of White river, and immediately conducted to the In- 
dian town of Sanduskv. Here he resided from his eighth 
to his twentieth year. At the treaty of Pittsburgh, in the 
fall of '73, he came in with the Shawanee nation, and acci- 
dentally meeting with some of his relations, he was recog- 
nized, and earnestly exhorted to relinquish his connection 
with the Indians, and return to his friends, He yielded with 
some reluctance, (having become strongly attached to a sav 
age life,) and having probably but little relish for labor on a 
farm, after the easy life which he had led in Ohio, he enlis- 
ted in the continental army, and served two compaigns with 
credit, as a sharp shooter. Having been properly discharg- 
ed, he settled in Westmoreland county, and when the unfor- 
tunate expedition of Crawfrod was set on foot, was strongly 
urged to attend in the capacity of a guide. Conquering 
the distaste which he naturally felt, at the idea of conducting 
a hostile army against his former friends, he yielded to the 
persuasion of his neighbors and shared in all the dangers of 
the army. At the moment when the rout took place, Slover 
was in the immediate neighborhood of the enemy, attending 
to a number of horses that were grazing on the plain. But 
the uproar in front, occasioned by the tumultuous flight of 
more than four hundred men, soon warned him of his dan- 
ger. He hastily mounted the best horse within reach, and 
put him to his utmost speed. He soon overtook the main bo- 
dy, and was among the foremost when the Indians attempt 
<>d to intercept them. A deep bog crossed the line^of retreat, 



156 SKETCHES OP 

and occasioned immense confusion. Those who first reach 
ed it, plunged in without hesitation, but after struggling for 
a few minutes their horses stuck fast, and were necessarily 
abandoned. The darkness of the night, and the hurry of 
the retreat, prevented the rear from profiting by the misfor- 
tune of the van. Horseman after horseman plunged madly 
into the swamp, and in a few minutes, a scene which baf- 
fles all attempt at description took place. Not one tenth 
part of the horses were able to struggle through. Their ri- 
ders dismounted and endeavored on foot, to reach the oppo- 
site side. The Indians pressed upon them, pouring an inces- 
sant fire upon the mass of fugitives, some of whom were 
completely mired, and sunk gradually to the chin, in which 
condition they remained until the following morning; others, 
with great difficulty, effected a passage, and continued their 
flight on foot. 

Slover having struggled for several minutes to disengage 
his horse, was at length compelled to abandon him, and wade 
through the morass as he best could, on foot. After incredi- 
ble fatigue and danger, he at length reached the firm ground, 
covered with mud, and frightened not a little at hearing the 
yells of the enemy immediately behind him, and upon each 
flank, many of them having crossed a few hundred yards a- 
bove, where the mud was not so deep. In a few minutes he 
overtook a party of six men on foot, having been compelled 
like himself to abandon their horses, and two of them hav- 
ing even lost their guns. Finding themselves hard pressed 
by the enemy, who urged the pursuit with great keenness, 
they changed their course from an eastern to a western di- 
rection, almost turning upon their own trail, and bending 
their steps towards Detroit. In a short time they struck the 
same swamp, although considerably higher up, and were 
compelled to wait until daylight in order to find their way 
across. Having succeeded at length, in reaching the oppo 



i 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 157 

site side, they travelled throughout the day, directly towards 
the Shawanee towns. This, as the event proved, was fines- 
sing rather too much. They would certainly avoid their 
pursuers, but they were plunging into the midst of the Indi- 
an settlements, and must expect to meet with roving bands 
of Indians in every direction. 

At 10 o'clock, they halted for breakfast, having eaten no- 
thing for two days. While busily engaged with their ration 
of cold pork and corn bread, they were alarmed by hearing a 
halloo immediately behind them, which was instantly an- 
swered by two others upon each flank. Hastily dropping 
their wallets, they fled into the grass, and falling upon their 
faces, awaited with beating hearts the approach of the ene- 
my. Presently, seven or eight Indians appeared, talking 
and laughing in high spirits, evidently ignorant of the pres- 
ence of the fugitives. In a few minutes they had passed, 
and the party cautiously returned to their wallets. The 
fright, however, had completely spoiled their appetites, and 
hastily gathering up the remnant of their provisions, they 
continued their journey, changing their course a little to the 
north, in order to avoid the party who had just passed. By 
twelve o'clock, they reached a large prairie, which it was 
necessary for them to cross, or return upon their own foot- 
steps. In the prairie they would be much exposed, as an 
enemy could see them at a vast distance, but to return to the 
spot from which they had started was so melancholy an al- 
ternative, that after a short and anxious consultation, it was 
determined at all risk to proceed. They accordingly enter- 
ed the vast plain, which stretched for many miles before 
them, affording no means of concealment but the grass, and 
advanced rapidly but cautiously, until about one o'clock, 
when the man in front, called their attention to a number of 
moving objects ahead, which seemed to approach them. 
The grass was high, and the objects indistinct. They might 

14 



158 SKETCHES OF 

be Indians or elk or buffalo, but whoever or whatever thay 
were, it would be as well perhaps not to await their coming. 
They accordingly crawled aside, and again lay down in the 
grass — occasionally lifting their heads in order to reconnoi- 
tre the strangers. As they drew near, they perceived them 
to be a party of Indians, but from the loose and straggling 
manner in which they walked, and the loudness of their voi- 
ces, they were satisfied that they had not been detected. 
The Indians quickly passed them and disappeared in the 
grass. The party then arose and continued their journey, 
looking keenly around them, in hourly expectation of anoth- 
er party of the enemy. 

In the evening, a heavy rain fell, the coldest that they 
had ever felt, and from which it was impossible to find a shel- 
ter Drenched to the skin and shivering with cold, they 
waded on through the grass until near sunset, when to their 
oreat joy they saw a deep forest immediately in front, where 
they could obtain shelter as well from the storm as the ene- 
my. The rain, however, which had poured in torrents while 
they were exposed to it, ceased at once as soon as they had 
reached a shelter. Considering this a good omen, they en- 
camped for the night, and on the following morning, recom- 
menced their journey with renewed spirits. They were 
much delayed, however, by the infirmity of two of their 
men, one of whom had burnt his foot severely, and the oth- 
er's knees were swollen with the rheumatism. The rheu- 
matic traveller, at length, fell considerably behind. The 
party halted, hallooed for him, and whistled loudly upon 
their chargers, but in vain. They saw him no more on their 
march, although he afterwards reached Wheeling in safety, 
while his stronger companions, as we shall quickly sec, were 
not so fortunate. 

They had now again shifted their course, and were mar- 
ching in a straight direction towards Pittsburgh. They had 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 159 

passed over the most dangerous part of the road, and had 
thus far, got the first view of every enemy who appeared. 
On the morning of the third day, however, a party of Indi- 
ans, who had secretly dogged them from the prairie, (through 
which their trail had been broad and obvious,) had now out- 
stripped them and lay in ambush on their road. The first 
intimation which Slover had of their existence, was a close 
discharge of rifles, which killed two of their party dead. 
The four survivors instantly ran to the trees, but two of their 
guns had been left in the swamp, so that two only remained 
tit for service. Slover, whose gun was in good order, took 
aim at the foremost Indian, who, raising his hand warningly, 
told him not to fire, and he should be treated kindly. Slov- 
er and his two unarmed companions instantly surrendered, 
but John Paul, the youth, refused to be included in the ca- 
pitulation, and being equally bold and active, completely 
baffled his pursuers and came safely into Wheeling. 

One of the Indians, instantly recognized Slover, having 
been present at his capture many years before, and having 
afterwards lived with him at Sandusky. He called him by 
his Indian name (Mannuchcothe,) and reproached him indig- 
nantly for bearing arms against his brothers. Slover was 
somewhat confused at the charge, fearing that his recogni 
tion would be fatal to him when he should reach the Indian 
towns. They were taken back to the prairie, where the In- 
dians had left their horses, and each mounting a horse, they 
moved rapidly towards the nearest town, which proved to be 
Waughcotomoco, the theatre of Kenton's adventure, four 
years before. Upon approaching the town, the Indians, who 
had heretofore been very kind to them, suddenly began to look 
sour, and put themselves into a passion by dwelling upon 
their injuries. Presently, as usual, the squaws, boys, &x. 
came out, and the usual scene commenced. They soon be 
came tired of abusing and switching them, and having se- 



160 SKETCHES OF 

lected the oldest of the three, they blacked his face with 
coal and water. The poor fellow was much agitated, and 
cried bitterly, frequently asking Slover if they were not go- 
ing to burn him. The Indians, in their own language, has- 
tily forbid Slover to answer him, and coming up to their in- 
tended victim, patted him upon the back, and with many hon- 
ied epithets, assured him that they would not hurt him. They 
then marched on to the large town, about two miles beyond 
the small one, (both bearing the same name,) having as 
usual, sent a runner in advance to inform the inhabitants 
of their approach. The whole village presently flocked 
out, and a row was formed for the gauntlet. The man who 
had been blacked attracted so much attention, that Slover 
and his companion scarcely received a blow. The former 
preceded them by twenty yards, and was furiously attacked 
by every individual. Loads of powder were shot into his 
body, deep wounds were inflicted with knives and toma- 
hawks, and sand was thrown into his eyes, and he was sev- 
eral times knocked down by cudgels. Having heard that 
he would be safe on reaching the council house, he forced 
his way with gigantic strength, through all opposition, and 
crasped the post with both hands, his body burnt with pow- 
der and covered with Wood. He was furiously torn from 
his place of refuge, however, and thrust back among his en- 
emies, when finding that they would give him no quarter, 
he returned their blows with a fury equal to their own, cry- 
ing piteously the whole time, and frequently endeavoring to 
wrest a tomahawk from his enemies. This singular scene 
was continued for nearly half an hour, when the prisoner 
was at length beaten to death. Slover and his companion 
reached the post in safety, and were silent spectators of the 
fate of their friend. As soon as he was dead, the Indians 
cut up his body, and stuck the head and quarters upon poles 
in the centre of the town. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 161 

On the same evening, he beheld the dead bodies of young 
Crawford and Col. Harrison, and a third whom he supposed 
to be Col. McCleland, the second in command. Their bo- 
dies were black and mangled, like that of their unfortunate 
companion, having been beaten to death a few hours before 
their arrival. As he passed by the bodies, the Indians smil- 
ed maliciously, and asked if he knew them? He mentioned 
their names, upon which they nodded with much satisfac- 
tion. In the evening all the dead bodies were dragged be- 
yond the limits of the town and abandoned to the dogs and 
wolves. In twenty four hours, their bones only were to be 
seen. 

On the following morning, Slovers only surviving com- 
panion was marched oiftoa neighboring town, and never 
heard of afterwards. Slover, himself, was summoned in 
the evening to attend at the council house, and give an ac- 
count of his conduct. Heretofore he had generally been 
treated with kindness, and on the first day of the council, he 
saw no symptoms of a disposition to put him to death. But 
on the second day, James Girty arrived from Crawford's ex- 
ecution, and instantly threw the whole weight of his influ- 
ence into the scale against the prisoner. He dwelt with 
much emphasis upon the ingratitude of Siover, in serving as 
a spy against those who had formerly treated him with such 
distinguished kindness, and scrupled not to affirm, that in a 
confidential conversation which he had had with the prison- 
er, on that morning, he had asked him "how he would like 
to live again with his old friends?" — Upon which Slover had 
laughed, and replied, that "he would stay until he had an 
opportunity of taking a scalp, and 7/ould then steal a horse 
and return to the whites." Slover knew many of his judg- 
es by name, spoke their language fluently / and made a vi- 
gorous defence. He said, that during the whole twelve years 
of his former captivity amongst them, he had given am- 

14* 



162 SKETCHES OF 

pie proofs of his fidelity to the Indians. That, although he 
had a thousand opportunities, he had never once attempted 
an escape, and there were several now present who could tes- 
tify that, at the treaty of fort Pitt, he had left them with re 
luctance in compliance with the earnest solicitations of his 
family ! That he had then taken leave of them publicly, in 
broad daylight, in time of profound peace, and with their 
full approbation. That he then had no idea of the existence 
of a future war, but when war came, it was his duty to ac- 
company his countrymen to the field against the Indians, 
precisely as he would have accompanied the Indians former- 
ly against the whites. That it was the undoubted duty of 
every warrior to serve his country, without regard to his own 
private feelings of attachment; that he had done so — and if 
the Indians thought it worthy of death, they could inflict the 
penalty upon him! — he was alone and in their power! — That 
Mr. Girty's assertion was positively false — he had not ex- 
changed a syllable with him, beyond a brief and cold saluta- 
tion, when they had met in the morning, not to mention the 
absurdity of supposing that if he had really entertained 
such an idea, he would have communicated it to Girty! — the 
sworn enemy of the whites, and as he believed his own per- 
sonal enemy* 

This vigorous and natural defence, seemed to make some 
impression upon his enemies. Girty 's assertion was so stri- 
kingly improbable, that very few gave it credit, and some of 
Slover's old friends exerted themselves actively in his be- 
half. The council suspended their decision for several days, 
and in the mean time, endeavored to gain information from 
him, as to the present condition of Virginia. Slover inform- 
ed them that Cornwallis had been captured, together with 
his whole army, which astonished them much, and compel- 
led them to utter some deep guttural interjections. But Gir- 
ty and McKey became very angry, swore that it was a lie. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 163 

and renewed their exertions with increased ardor, to have 
him brought to the stake. While his trial was pending, he 
was unbound, and unguarded, was invited to all their dan- 
ces, and suffered to reside as an inmate in the cabin of an 
old squaw, who treated him with great affection. Girty 
was blustering, ferocious and vulgar in his manners, but 
McKey was silent, grave and stern, never addressing Slov- 
er, and seldom speaking in council. He lived apart from 
the rest in a handsome house, built of white oak logs, ele- 
gantly hewed, and neatly covered with shingles. His ha^ 
tred to the whites was deep and inveterate, and his influence 
was constantly exerted against every prisoner who came be- 
fore him. They spared no pains, in endeavoring to entrap 
Slover into some unguarded words, which might injure him 
with the Indians. A w T hite man one morning asked Slover 
to walk out with him, as he had samething of importance 
to communicate. As soon as they had gained the fields, 
the fellow halted, and in a confidential tone, informed Slover 
that he had two brothers living upon the banks of the Poto- 
mac, whom he was desirous of seeing again — that the Indi- 
ans had given him his life, for the present, but they were 
such capricious devils, that there was no confidence to be 
placed in them, and he felt disposed to escape, while it was 
in his power, if Slover would accompany him. Slover heard 
him coldly, and with an appearance of great surprize, 
blamed him for entertaining so rash a project, and assured 
him that he was determined to encounter no such risk. The 
emissary of Girty and McKey, returned instantly to the 
council, and reported that Slover had eagerly entered into 
the project, and was desirous of escaping that evening. 

Two days afterwards, a very large council was held, be- 
ing composed of warriors from the Shawanee, Delaware T 
Wyandott, Chippewa and Mingo tribes. Two Indians came 
lothe wigwam in order to conduct Slover once more before 



164 SKETCHES OF 

his judges, but the old squaw concealed him beneath a large 
bear skin, and fell upon the two messengers so fiercely with 
her tongue, that they were compelled to retreat with some 
precipitation. This zeal in his service, on the part of the 
old squaw, was rather alarming than gratifying to Slover, 
for he rightly conjectured that something evil was brewing, 
which he knew that she would be unable to avert. He was 
not long in suspense. Within two hours, Girty came into 
the hut, followed by more than forty w r arriors, and seizing 
Slover, stripped him naked, bound his hands behind him, 
painted his body black, and bore him off with great violence. 
Girty exulted greatly in the success of his efforts, and load- 
ed him with curses and reproaches, assuring him that he 
would now get what he had long deserved. 

The prisoner was borne off to a town at the distance of 
five miles from Waughcotomoco, where he was met as usual, 
by all the inhabitants, and beaten in the ordinary manner for 
one hour. They then carried him to another little village 
about two miles distant, where a stake and hickory poles 
had been prepared, in order to burn him that evening. The 
scene of his intended execution was the council house, part 
of which was covered with shingles, and the remainder en- 
tirely open at top, and very slightly boarded at the sides. In 
the open space, a pole had been sunk in the ground, and the 
faggots collected. Slover was dragged to the stake, his hands 
bound behind him, and then fastened to the pole as in Craw- 
ford's case. Fire was quickly applied to the faggots which 
began to blaze briskly. An orator then, as usual, addressed 
the assembly, in order to inflame their passions to the pro- 
per height. Slover seeing his fate inevitable, rallied his 
courage, and prepared to endure it with firmness. For the 
last half hour the wind had been high, but the clouds were 
light, and appeared drifting rapidly away- While the orator 
was speaking, however, the wind suddenly lulled, and ahea- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 165 

vy shower of rain fell which instantly extinguished the fire, 
and drenched the prisoner and his enemies to the skin. Poor 
Slover, who had been making preparations to battle with 
lire, was astonished at finding himself deluged all at once 
with so different an element, and the enemy seemed no less 
so. They instantly ran under the covered part of the house, 
and left the prisoner to take the rain freely, assuring him 
from time to time, that he should be burned on the following 
morning. As soon as the rain ceased, they again surroun- 
ded him, dancing around the stake, kicking him severely,, 
and striking him with sticks, until eleven o'clock at night, 
A tall young chief named "Half Moon," then stooped down 
and asked the prisoner if "he was net sleepy?" Slover,- 
somewhat astonished at such a question, and at such a time, 
replied in the affirmative. Half Moon then untied him, 
conducted him into a strong block house, pinioned his arms 
until the buffalo tug was buried in the flesh, and then pas 
sing another thong around his neck, and tying the other end 
to one of the beams of the house, left him under a strong 
guard, exhorting him to sleep soundly, for that he must "eat 
fire in the morning." 

The prisoner, on the contrary, never closed his eyes, a- 
waiting anxiously until his guard should fall asleep. They 
showed, however, no inclination to indulge him. Two of 
them lay down a little after midnight, but the third sat up 
talking and smoking until nearly daylight. He endeavored 
to entertain Slover, by speculations upon his (SJover's) abili- 
ty to bear pain, handling the painful subject with the zest of 
an amateur, and recounting to the prisoner,, the particulars 
of many exhibitions of the same kind which he had witness- 
ed. He dwelt upon the entertainment which he had no 
doubt Slover would afford, exhorting him to bear it like a 
man, and not forget that he had once been an Indian him- 
self. Upon this torturing subject, he talked, and smoked, 



166 8KETCHES OF 

and talked again, until the prisoner's nerves tingled, as if 
the hot irons were actually hissing against his flesh. At 
length the tedious old man's head sunk gradually upon his 
breast, and Slover heard him snoring loudly. He paused 
a few moments, listening intently. His heart beat so strong- 
ly, that he was fearful lest the [ndians should hear it, and ar- 
rest him in his last effort to escape. They did not stir, how- 
ever, and with trembling hands he endeavored to slip the 
cords from his arms over his rist. In this he succeeded with- 
out much difficulty, but the thong around his neck was more 
obstinate. He attempted to gnaw it in two, but it was as 
thick as his thumb and as hard as iron, being made of a sea- 
soned buffalo's hide. Daylight was faintly breaking in the 
east, and he expected every moment, that his tormentors 
would summon him to the stake. In the agony and earnest- 
ness of his feelings, the sweat rolled in big drops down his 
forehead, and the quickness of his breathing awakened the 
old man. Slover lay still, fearful of being detected, and 
kept his arms under his back. The old Indian yawned, 
stretched himself, stirred the fire, and then lay down again, 
and began to snore as loudly as ever. Now was the time 
or never ! He seized the rope with both hands and giving 
it several quick jerks, could scarcely believe his senses, 
when he saw the knot come untied, and felt himself at liber- 
ty. He arose lightly, stepped silently over the bodies of the 
sleeping Indians, and in a moment stood in the open air. 
Day was just breaking — and the inhabitants of the village 
had not yet arisen. He looked around for a moment to see 
whether he was observed, and then ran hastily into a corn- 
•fieid, in order to conceal himself. On the road he had near- 
ly stumbled upon a squaw and several children, who were 
asleep under a tree. Hastily avoiding them, he ran through 
the cornfield, and observing a number of horses on the other 
side, he paused a moment, untied the cord, which still con- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 167 

lined his right arm, and hastily fitting it into a halter, ap- 
proached a fine strong colt, about four years old, that fortu- 
nately proved as gentle as he could wish. Fancying that 
he heard a door open behind him, he sprung upon his back 
as lightly as a squirrel, although every limb was bruised and 
swollen, by the severe beating of the preceding night, and 
as the woods were open and the ground level, he put his horse 
to his utmost speed and was soon out of sight. Confident 
that pursuit would not be delayed more than fiften minutes, 
he never slackened his speed until about ten o'clock in the 
day, when he reached the Scioto, at a point fullv fity miles 
distant from the village which he had left at daylight. 

He here paused a moment, and allowed the noble animal, 
who had borne him so gallantly, to breathe for a few min- 
utes. Fearing, however, that the enemy had pursued him 
with the same mad violence, he quickly mounted his horse a- 
gain, and plunged into the Scioto, which was now swollen 
by the recent rains. His horse stemmed the current hand- 
somely, but began to fail in ascending the opposite bank. He 
■still, however, urged him to full speed, and by three o'clock 
had left the Scioto more than twenty miles behind, when his 
horse sunk under him, having galloped upwards of seventy 
miles. Slover instantly sprung from his back, and ran on 
foot until sunset. Halting for a moment, he heard a halloo, 
far behind him, and seeing the keenness of the pursuit, he 
continued to run until ten o'clock at night, when he sunk upon 
the ground, and vomited violently. In two hours the moon 
arose, which he knew would enable the enemy to follow his 
trail through the night — and again starting up, he ran for- 
ward until day. During the night he had followed a path, 
but in the morning he abandoned it, and changing his course, 
followed a high ridge, covered with rank grass and weede, 
which he carefully put back with a stick as he passed through 
it in order to leave as indistinct a trail as possible. On that 



168 SKETCHES OF 

evening he reached some of the tributaries of the Musking- 
um, where his naked and blistered skin attracted millions 
of musquetoes, that followed him day and night, effectually 
prevented his sleeping, and carefully removed such particles 
of skin as the nettles had left, so that if his own account is 
to be credited, upon reaching the Muskingum, which he did 
on the third day, he had been completely peeled from head 
to foot. Here he found a few wild raspberries, which was 
the first food he had tasted for four days. He had never felt 
hunger, but suffered much from faintness and exhaustion. 
He swam the Muskingum at Old Comer's town, and looking 
back, thought that he had put a great deal of ground between 
himself and the stake, at which he had been found near Wa- 
cotomoco — and that it would be very strange if, having been 
brought thus far, he should again fall into the power of the 
enemy. 

On the next day he reached Stillwater, where he caught 
two crawfish, and devoured them raw. Two days after- 
wards, he struck the Ohio river immediately opposite Whee- 
ling, and perceiving a man standing upon the Island, he cal- 
led to him, told him his name, and asked him to bring over a 
canoe for him. The fellow at first was very shy, but Slover 
having told the names of many officers and privates, who had 
accompanied the expedition, he was at length persuaded to 
venture across, and the fugitive was safely transported to the 
Virginia shore, after an escape which has few parallels in re- 
al life, and which seems even to exceed the bounds of proba- 
ble fiction. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 169 



Int 



CHAPTER VI. 



the present chapter, we shall notice several circum- 
stances, in the order in which they occurred, none of which 
singly, are of sufficient importance to occupy a chapter to 
themselves. In the autumn of 1779, a number of keel boats 
were ascending the Ohio under the command of Maj. Rodg- 
ers, and had advanced as far as the mouth of. Licking with- 
out accident. Here, however, they observed a few Indians, 
standing upon the southern extremity of a sandbar, while a 
canoe, rowed by three others, was in the act of putting off 
from the Kentucky shore, as if for the purpose of taking 
them aboard. Rodgers instantly ordered the boats to be 
made fast on the Kentucky shore, while the crew, to the num- 
ber of seventy men, well armed, cautiously advanced in 
such a manner as to encircle the spot where the enemy had 
been seen to land. Only five or six Indians had been seen, 
and no one dreamed of encountering more than fifteen or 
twenty enemies. When Rodgers, however, had, as he sup- 
posed, completely surrounded the enemy, and was preparing 
to rush upon them, from several quarters at once, he was 
thunderstruck at beholding several hundred savages sudden- 
ly spring up in front, rear, and upon both flanks! They in- 
stantly poured in a close discharge of rifles, and then throw 
ing down their guns, fell upon the survivors with the toma- 
hawk ! The panic was complete, and the slaughter prodi- 
gious. Major Rodgers, together with forty five others of 
his men, were almost instantly destroyed. The survivors 
made an effort to regain their boats, but the five men who 
had been left in charge of them, had immediately put off 
from shore in the hindmost boat, and the enemy had already 

15 



170 SKETCHES OF 

gained possession of the others. Disappointed in the at- 
tempt, they turned furiously upon the enemy, and aided by 
the approach of darkness, forced their way through their 
lines, and with the loss of several severely wounded, at 
length effected their escape to Harrodsburgh. 

Among the wounded was Captain Robert Benham. Short- 
ly after breaking through the enemy's line, he was shot 
through both hips, and the bones being shattered, he instant- 
ly fell to the ground. Fortunately, a large tree had lately 
fallen near the spot where he lay, and with great pain, he 
dragged himself into the top, and lay concealed among the 
branches The Indians, eager in pursuit of the others, pas- 
sed him without notice, and by midnight all was quiet. On 
the following day, the Indians returned to the battle ground, 
in order to strip the dead and take care of the boats. Ben- 
ham, although in danger of famishing, permitted them to 
pass without making known his condition, very correctly 
supposing that his crippled legs, would only induce them to 
tomahawk him upon the spot, in order to avoid the trouble of 
carrying him to their town. He lay close, therefore, until 
the evening of the second day, when perceiving a raccoon 
descending a tree, near him, he shot it, hoping to devise some 
means of reaching it, when he could kindle a fire and make 
a meaL Scarcely had his gun cracked, however, when he 
heard a human cry, apparently not more than fifty yards off. 
Supposing it to be an Indian, he hastily reloaded his gun, 
and remained silent, expecting the approach of an enemy. 
Presently the same voice was heard again, but much near- 
er. Still Benham made no reply, but cocked his gun and sat 
ready to fire as soon as an object appeared. A third halloo 
was quickly heard, followed by an exclamation of impa- 
tience and distress, which convinced Benham that the un- 
known must be a Kcntuckian. As soon, therefore, as he 
heard the expression "whoever you are— for God*s sake an- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 171 

swer me!"— he replied with readiness, and the parlies were 
soon together. Benham, as we have already observed, was 
shot through both legs! — the man who now appeared, had 
escaped from the same battle, with both armsbroken! Thus 
each was enabled to supply what the other wanted. Ben- 
ham having the perfect use of his arms, could load his gun 
and kill game, with great readiness, while his friend having 
the use of his legs, could kick the game to the spot where 
Benham sat, who was thus enabled to cook it. When no 
wood was near them, his companion would rake up brush 
with his feet, and gradually roll it within reach of Benham's 
hands, who constantly fed his companion, and dressed his 
wounds, as well as his own — tearing up both of their shirts 
for that purpose. They found some difficulty in procuring 
water, at first — but Benham at length took his own hat, and 
placing the rim between the teeth of his companion, directed 
him to wade into the Licking, up to his neck, and dip the 
hat into the water (by sinking his own head.) The man 
who could walk, was thus enabled to bring water, by means of 
his teeth, which Benham could afterwards dispose of as was 
necessary. 

In a few days, they had killed all the squirrels and birds 
within reach, and the man with the broken arms, was sent 
out to drive game within gunshot of the spot, to which Ben- 
ham was confined. Fortunately,, wild turkeys were abun- 
dant in those woods, and his companion would walk around, 
and drive them towards Benham, who seldom failed to kill 
two or three of each flock. In this manner, they supported 
themselves for several weeks, until their wounds had heal- 
ed, so as to enable them to travel. They then shifted their 
quarters, and put up a small shed at the mouth of Licking, 
where they encamped until late in November, anxiously ex- 
pecting the arrival of some boat, which should convey them 
to the falls of Ohio. 



172 SKETCHES OF 

On the 27tli of November, they observed a flat boat mov- 
ing leisurely down the river. Benham instantly hoisted his 
hat upon a stick and hallooed loudly for help. The crew, 
however, supposing them to be Indians — at least suspecting 
them of an intention to decoy them ashore, paid no atten- 
tion to their signals of distress, but instantly put over to the 
opposite side of the river, and manning every oar, endeav- 
ored to pass them as rapidly as possible. Benham beheld 
them pass him with a sensation bordering on despair, for 
the place was much frequented by Indians, and the approach 
of winter threatened them with destruction, unless speedily 
relieved. • At length, after the boat had passed him nearly 
half a mile, he saw a canoe put off from its stern, and cau- 
tiously approach the Kentucky shore^ evidently reconnoiter- 
ing them with great suspicion. He called loudly upon them 
for assistance, mentioned his name and made known his con- 
dition. After a long parley, and many evidences of reluc- 
tance on the part of the crew, fehe canoe at length touched 
the shore, and Benham and his friend were taken on board. 
Their appearance excited much suspicion. They were al- 
most entirely naked, and their faces were garnished with six 
weeks growth of beard. The one was barely able to hob- 
ble upon crutches, and the other could manage to feed him- 
self with one of his hands. They were instantly taken to 
Louisville, where their clothes (which had been carried off 
in the boat which deserted them) w r ere restored to them, 
and after a few weeks confinement, both were perfectly re 
stored. 

Benham afterwards served in the northwest throughout 
the whole of the Indian war — accompanied the expeditions 
of Harmer and Wilkinson, shared in the disaster of Sl 
Clair, and afterwards in the triumph of Wayne. Upon the 
return of peace, he bought.the lanc|, upon which Rodggrs hacli 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 173 

been defeated, and ended his days in tranquility, amid the 
scenes which had witnessed his sufferings. 

Early in the spring of 1780, Mr. Alexander M'Connel, 
of Lexington, Ky. went into the woods on foot, to hunt deer. 
He soon killed a large buck, and returned home for a horse, 
in order to bring it in. During his absence, a party of five 
Indians 7 on one of their usual skulking expeditions, acciden- 
tally stumbled on the body of the deer, and perceiving that 
it had been recently killed, they naturally supposed that the 
hunter would speedily return to secure the flesh. Three of 
them, therefore, took their stations within close rifle shot of 
the deer, while the other two followed the trail of the hun- 
ter, and waylaid the path by which he was expected to re- 
turn. McConnel, expecting no danger, rode carelessly a- 
long the path, which the two scouts v/ere watching, until he 
had come within view of the deer, when he was fired upon 
by the whole party, and his horse killed. While laboring 
to extricate himself from the dying animal, he was seized by 
his enemies, instantly overpowered, and borne off as a pris- 
oner. His captors, however, seemed to be a merry, gocd 
natured set of fellows, and permitted him to accompany them 
unbound — and what was rather extraordinary, allowed him 
to retain his gun and hunting accoutrements. He accompa- 
nied them with great apparent cheerfulness through the 
day, and displayed his dexterity in shooting deer for the use 
of the company, until they began to regard him with 
great partiality. Having travelled with them in this man- 
ner for several days, they at length reached the banks of 
the Ohio river. Heretofore, the Indians had taken the pre- 
caution to bind him at night, although not very securely; but 
on that evening, he remonstrated with them on the subject, 
and complained so strongly of the pain which the cords gave 
him, that they merely wrapped the buffalo tug loosely a- 
round his wrists, and having tied it in an easy knot, and at- 

15* 



174 SKETCHES OF 

tached the extremities of the rope to their own bodies, -to 
order to prevent his moving without awakening them, they 
very composedly went to sleep, leaving the prisoner to follow 
their example or not as he pleased. 

McConnel determined to effect his escape that nighty if 
possible, as on the following morning they would cross the 
river, which would render it much more difficult. He, there- 
fore, lay quietly until near midnight, anxiously ruminating 
upon the best means of effecting his object. Accidentally 
casting his eyes in the direction of his feet, they fell upon 
the glittering blade of a knife,, which had escaped its sheath, 
and was now lying near the feet of one of the Indians. To 
reach it with his hands, without disturbing the two Indians, 
to whom he was fastened, was impossible, and it was very 
hazardous to attempt to draw it up with his feet. This, 
however, he attempted. With much difficulty he grasped 
the blade between his toes, and after repeated and long con- 
tinued efforts, succeeded at length in bringing it within reach 
of his hands. To cut his cords, was then but the work of a 
moment, and gradually and silently extricating his person 
from the arms of the Indians, he walked to the fire and sat 
down. He saw that his work was but half done. That if 
he should attempt to return home, without destroying his 
enemies, he would assuredly be pursued and probably over- 
taken, w r hen his fate would be certain. On the other hand, 
it seemed almost impossible for a single man to succeed in 
a conflict with five Indians, even although unarmed and a- 
sleep. He could not hope to deal a blow with his knife so 
silently and fatally, as to destroy each one of his enemies in 
turn, without awakening the rest: — Their slumbers were 
proverbially light and restless — and if he failed with a sin- 
gle one, he must instantly be overpowered by the survivors. 
The knife, therefore, was out of the question. After anx- 
ious reflection for a few minutes, he formed his plan. The 



western Adventure. 175' 

gun's' of the Indians were stacked near the fire — their knives 
and tomahawks were in sheaths by their sides. The latter 
he dared not touch for fear of awakening their owners — but 
the former he carefully removed, with the exception of two, 
and hid them in the woods, where he knew the Indians 
would not readily find them. He then returned to the spot 
where the Indians were still sleeping, perfectly ignorant of 
the fate being prepared for them, and taking a gun in each 
hand, he rested the muzzels upon a log within six feet of 
his victims, and having taken deliberate aim at the head of 
one, and the heart of another, he pulled both triggers at the 
same moment. Both shots were fatal. At the report of 
their guns, the others sprung to their feet, and stared wildly 
around them. McConnel, who had run instantly to the spot 
where the other rifles were hid, hastily seized one of them 
and fired at two of his enemies, who happened to stand in a 
line with each other. The nearest fell dead,- being shot 
through the centre of the body; the second fell also, bellow- 
ing loudly, but quickly recovering, limped off into the wood* 
as fast as possible. The fifth, and only one who remained 
unhurt, darted off like a deer, with a yell which announced 
equal terror and astonishment. McConnel, not wishing to 
fight any more such battles, selected his own rifle from the 
stack, and made the best of his way to Lexington, where he 
arrived safely within two days. 

Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Dunlap, of Fayette, who had 
been several months a prisoner amongst the Indians on Mad- 
river, made her escape, and returned to Lexington. She 
reported, that the survivor returned to his tribe with a lam- 
entable tale. He related that they had taken a fine young 
hunter near Lexington, and had brought him safely as far as 
the Ohio; — that while encamped upon the bank of the riv- 
er, a large party of white men had fallen upon them in the 
night, and killed all his companions, together with the poor 



176 SKETCHES OF 

defenceless prisoner, who lay bound hand and foot, unable 
either to escape or resist ! ! 

Early in May, 1781, McAfee's station, in the neighbor- 
hood of Harrodsburgh, was alarmed. On the morning of the 
9th, Samuel McAfee, accompanied by another man, left the 
fort in order to visit a small plantation in the neighborhood, 
and at the distance of three hundred yards from the gate, they 
were fired upon by a party of Indians in ambush. The man 
who accompanied him instantly fell, and McAfee attempted 
to regain the fort. While running rapidly for that purpose, 
he found himself suddenly intercepted by an Indian, who, 
springing out of the canebrake, planted himself directly in 
his path. There was no[timefor compliments* Each glar- 
ed upon the other for an instant in silence, and both raising 
their guns at the same moment, pulled the triggers together. 
The Indian's rifle snapped, while McAfee's ball passed di- 
rectly through his brain. Having no time to reload his gun, 
lie sprung over the body of his antagonist, and continued his 
flight to the fort. When within one hundred yards of the 
gate, he was met by his two brothers, Robert and James, 
who, at the report of the guns, had hurried out to the assis- 
tance of their brother. Samuel hastily informed them of 
their clanger, and exhorted them instantly to return. James 
readity complied, but Robert, deaf to all remonstrances, de- 
clared that he must have a view of the dead Indian. He 
ran on, for that purpose, and having regaled himself with 
that spectacle, was hastily returning by the same path, 
when he saw five or six Indians between him and the fort, 
evidently bent upon taking him aiive. All his activity and 
presence of mind was now put in request. He ran rapidly 
from tree to tree, endeavoring to turn their flank, and reach 
one of the gates, and after a variety of turns and doublings 
in the thick wood, he found himself pressed by only one In 
dian. McAfee, nastily throwing himself behind a fence, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 171 

turned upon his pursuer and compelled him to take shelter 
behind a tree. Both stood still for a moment — McAfee hav 
ing his gun cocked, and the sight fixed upon the tree, at the 
spot where he supposed the Indian would thrust out his head 
in order to have a view of his antagonist. After waiting a 
few seconds he was gratified. The Indian slowly and cau- 
tiously exposed a part of his head, and began to elevate his 
rifle. As soon as a sufficient mark presented itself McAfee 
fired, and the Indian fell. While turning, in order to contin- 
ue his flight, he was fired on by a party of sis, which com- 
pelled him again to tree. But scarcely had he done so. 
when, from the opposite quarter he received the firs of three 
more enemies, which made the bark fly around him, and 
knocked up the dust about his feet. Thinking his post ra- 
ther too hot for safety, he neglected all shelter, and ran di- 
rectly for the fort, which, in defiance of all opposition^ he 
reached in safety, to the inexpressible joy of his brothers,,, 
who had despaired of his return. 

The Indians now opened a heavy fire upon the fort, in 
their usual manner ; but finding every effort useless, they has- 
tily decamped, without any loss beyond the two who had 
fallen by the hands of the brothers, and without having in- 
flicted any upon the garrison. Within half an hour, Major 
McGary brought up a party from Harrodsburgh at full gal- 
lop, and uniting with the garrison, pursued the enemy with 
all possible activity. They soon overtook them, and a sharp 
action ensued. The Indians were routed in a few minutes 
with the loss of six warriors left dead upon the ground, and 
many others wounded, who as usual were borne off. The 
pursuit was continued for several miles, but from the thick- 
ness of the woods, and the extreme activity and address of 
of the enemy, was not very effectual. McGary lost one 
man dead upon the spot, and another mortally wounded. 

About the same time, Bryant's station was much harrass- 



178 SKETCHES OF 

ed by small parties of the enemy. This, as we have alrea- 
dy remarked, was a frontier post, and generally received the 
brunt of Indian hostility. It had been settled in 1779 by 
four brothers from North Carolina, one of whom, William, 
had married a sister of Col. Daniel Boone. The Indians 
were constantly lurking in the neighborhood, waylaying 
the paths, stealing their horses and butchering their cattle. 
It at length became necessary to hunt in parties of twenty 
or thirty men, so as to be able to meet and repel those at- 
tacks, which were every day becoming more bold and fre- 
quent. One afternoon, about the 20th of May, William 
Bryant, accompanied by twenty men, left the fort on a hun- 
ting expedition down the Elkhorn creek. They moved with 
caution, until they had passed all the points where ambus- 
cades had generally been formed, when, seeing no enemy, 
they became more bold, and determined, in order to sweep 
large extent of country, to divide their company into two 
parties. One of them, conducted by Bryant in person, was 
to descend the Elkhorn on its southern bank, flanking out 
largely* and occupying as much ground as possible. The 
other, under the orders of James Hogan, a young farmer in 
good circumstances, was to move down in a parallel line up- 
on the north bank. The two parties were to meet at night,, 
and encamp together at the mouth of Cane run. Each punc- 
tually performed the first part of their plans. Hogan, how 
ever, had travelled but a few hundred yards, when he heard 
a loud voice behind him exclaim in very good English, "stop 
boys P Hastily looking back, they saw several Indians on 
foot pursuing them as rapidly as possible. Without halting 
to count numbers, the party put spurs to their horses, and 
{lasted through the woods at full speed, the Indians keeping 
close behind them, and at times gaining upon them. There 
was a led horse in company, which had been brought with 
them for the purpose of packing game,. This was instant- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 179 

ly abandoned and fell into the hands of the Indians. Sever- 
al of them lost their hats in the eagerness of flight; but 
quickly getting into the open woods, they left their pursuers 
so far behind, that they had leisure to breathe and enquire 
of each other, whether it was worth while to kill their horses 
before they had ascertained the number of the enemy. They 
quickly determined to cross the creek, and await the ap- 
proach of the Indians. If they found them superior to their 
own and Bryanfs party united, they would immediately re- 
turn to the fort — as, by continuing their march to the mouth 
of Cane run, they would bring a superior enemy upon their 
friends and endanger the lives of the whole party. They 
accordingly crossed the creek, dismounted, and awaited the 
approach of the enemy. By this time it had become dark, 
the Indians were distinctly beard approaching the creek up- 
on the opposite side, and after a short halt, a solitary warri- 
or descended the bank and began to wade through the stream. 
Hogan waited until they had emerged from the gloom of 
the trees which grew upon the bank, and as soon as he had 
reached the middle of the stream, where the light was more 
distinct, he took deliberate aim and fired. A great splash- 
ing in the water was heard, but presently all became quiet. 
The pursuit was discontinued, and the party, remounting 
their horses, returned home. Anxious, however, to apprize 
Bryant's party of their danger, they left the fort before day- 
light on the ensuing morning, and rode rapidly down the 
creek, in the direction of the mouth of Cane. When within 
a f^ew hundred yards of the spot where they supposed the en- 
campment to be, they heard the report of many guns in 
quick succession. Supposing that Bryant had fallen in with 
a herd of buffalo, they quickened their march in order to 
take part in the sport. The morning was foggy, and the 
smoke of the guns lay so heavily upon the ground that they 
could see nothing until they had approached within twenty 



180 SKETCHES OF 

yards of the creek, when they suddenly found themselves 
within pistol shot of a party of Indians, very composedly 
seated upon their packs, and preparing their pipes. Both 
parties were much startled, buf quickly recovering, they shel- 
tered themselves as usual, and the action opened with great 
vivacity. The Indians maintained their ground for half an 
hour, with some firmness, but being hard pressed in front, 
and turned in flank, they at length gave way, and being close- 
ly pursued, were ultimately routed, with considerable loss, 
which, however, could not be distinctly ascertained. Of 
Hogan's party, one man was killed on the spot, and three 
others wounded, noise mortally. 

It happened that Bryant's company, had encamped at the 
mouth of Cane, as had been agreed upon, and were unable 
to account for Hogan's absence. That, about daylight, they 
had heard a bell at a distance, which they immediately re- 
cognized as the one belonging to the led horse which had ac- 
companied Hogan^s party, and which, as we have seen, had 
been abandoned to the enemy the evening before. Supposing 
their friends to be bewildered in the fog, and unable to find 
their camp, Bryant, accompanied by Grant, one of his men, 
mounted a horse, and rode to the spot where the bell was 
still ringing. They quickly fell into an ambuscade, and 
were fired upon. Bryant was mortally, and Grant severely 
wounded, the first being shot through the hip and both knees, 
the latter through the back. Being both able to keep the 
saddle, however, they set spurs to their horses, and arrived 
at the station shortly after breakfast. The Indians, in the 
mean time, had fallen upon the encampment, and instantly 
dispersed it, and while preparing to regale themselves after 
their victory, were suddenly attacked, as we have seen, by 
Hogan. The timidity of Hogan's party, at the first appear- 
ance of the Indians, was the cause of the death of Bryant. 
The same men who fled so hastily in the evening, were able 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 181 

the next morning, by a little firmness, to vanquish the same 
party of Indians. Had they stood at first, an equal suc- 
cess would probably have attended them, and the life of 
their leader would have been preserved. 

We have now to notice an adventure of a different kind, 
and which, from its singularity, is entitled to a place in our 
pages. In 1781, Lexington was only a cluster of cabins, 
one of which, near the spot where the ccuit house now 
stands, was used as a school house. One morning in May, 
McKinley, the teacher, was sitting alone at his desk, busily 
engaged in writing, when hearing a slight noise at the door. 
he turned his head, and beheld — what do you suppose, rea- 
der? A tall Indian, in his war paint? brandishing his tom- 
ahawk, or handling his knife? No! an enormous cat, with 
her forefeet upon the step of the door, her tail curled over 
her back, her bristles erect, and her eyes glancing rapidly 
through the room, as if in search of a mouse. McKinley's 
position at first completely concealed him, but a slight and 
involuntary motion of his chair, at sight of this shaggy in- 
habitant of the forest, attracted puss's attention, and their 
eyes met. McKinley having heard much of the powers of 
"the human face divine," in quelling the audacity of wild 
animals, attempted to disconcert the intruder by a frown. 
Bat puss was not to be bullied. Her eyes flashed fire, her 
tail waved angrily, and she began to gnash her teeth, evi- 
dently bent upon serious hostility. Seeing his danger, Mc- 
Kinley hastily arose and attempted to snatch a cylindrical 
rule from a table which stood within reach, but the cat was 
too quick for him. Darting upon him with the proverbial 
activity of her tribe, she fastened upon his side with her 
teem, and began to rend and tear with her claws like a fury. 
McKinley 's clothes were in an instant torn frcm his side, and 
his flesh dreadfully mangled by the enraged animal, whose 
strength and ferocity filled him with astonishment. He in 
16 



182 SKETCHES OF 

vain attempted to disengage her from his side. Her long 
sharp teeth were fastened between his ribs, and his efforts 
served but to enrage her the more. Seeing his blood flow 
very copiously from the numerous wounds in his side, he be- 
came seriously alarmed, and not knowing what else to do? 
he threw himself upon the edge of the table and pressed her 
against the sharp corner with the whole weight of his body. 
The cat now began to utter the most wild and discordant 
cries, and McKinley, at the same time, lifting up his voice 
in concert, the two together sent forth notes so doleful as to 
alarm the whole town. Women, who are always the first in 
hearing or spreading news, were now the first to come to 
McKinley's assistance. But so strange and unearthly was 
the harmony within the school house, that they hesitated 
long before they ventured to enter. At length the boldest 
of them rushed in, and seeing McKinley bending over the 
corner of the table, and writhing his body as if in great pain, 
she at first supposed that he was laboring under a severe fit 
of the colic — but quickly perceiving the cat which was now 
in the agonies of death, she screamed out, "why good heav- 
en! Mr. McKinley what is the matter?" "I have caught 
a cat, madam!" replied he, gravely turning around, while 
the sweat streamed from his face under the mingled operation 
of fright, fatigue and agony. Most of the neighbors had 
now arrived, and attempted to disengage the dead cat from 
her antagonist; but, so firmly were her tusks locked between 
his ribs, that this was a work of no small difficulty. Scarce- 
ly had it been effected, when McKinley became very sick, 
and was compelled to go to bed. In a few days, however, 
ke had totally recovered, and so late as 1820, was alive, 
and a resident of Bourbon county, Ky., where he has often 
been heard to affirm, that he, at any time, had rather fight 
two Indians than one wild cat. 

About the same time, a conflict, more unequal and equally 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 183 

remarkable, took place in another part of the country. Da- 
vid Morgan, a relation of the celebrated General Daniel 
Morgan, had settled upon the Monongahela, during the ear- 
lier period of the revolutionary war, and at this time had 
ventured to occupy a cabin at the distance of several miles 
from any settlement. One morning, having sent his youn- 
ger children out to a field at a considerable distance from the 
house, he became uneasy about them, and repaired to the 
spot where they were working, armed as usual with a good 
rifle. While sitting upon the fence, and giving some direc- 
tions, as to their work, he observed two Indians upon the oth- 
er side of the field gazing earnestly upon the party. He in- 
stantly called to the children to make their escape, while he 
should attempt to cover their retreat. The odds were great- 
ly against him, as in addition to other circumstances, he 
was nearly seventy years of age, and of course unable to 
contend with his enemies in running. The house was more 
than a mile distant, but the children, having two hundred 
yards the start, and being effectually covered by their fa 
ther, were soon so far in front, that the Indians turned their 
attention entirely to the old man. He ran for several hun- 
dred yards with an activity which astonished himself, but 
perceiving that he would be overtaken, long before he could 
reach his home, he fairly turned at bay, and prepared for a 
strenuous resistance. The woods through which they were 
running, were very thin, and consisted almost entirely of 
small trees, behind which, it was difficult to obtain proper 
shelter. When Morgan adopted the above mentioned reso- 
lution, he had just passed a large walnut, which stood like a 
patriarch among the saplings which surrounded it, and it be- 
came necessary to run back about ten steps in order to re- 
gain it. The Indians became startled at the sudden advance 
of the fugitive, and were compelled to halt among a cluster 
of saplings, where they anxiously strove, to shelter them- 



& 



184 SKETCHES OF 

selves. This, however, was impossible, and Morgan, who 
was an excellent marksman, saw enough of the person of 
one of them to justify him in risking a shot. His enemy in- 
stantly fell mortally wounded. The other Indian, taking ad- 
vantage of Morgan's empty gun, sprung from his shelter 
and advanced rapidly upon him. The old man, having no 
time to reload his gun, was compelled to fly a second time. 
The Indian gained rapidly upon him, and when within twen- 
ty steps, fired,. but with so unsteady an aim, that Morgan 
was totally unhurt, the ball having passed over his shoulder. 
He now again stood at bay, clubbing his rifle for a blow, 
while tho Indian dropping his empty gun, brandished his 
tomahawk and prepared to throw it at his enemy. Morgan 
struck with, the but of his gun, and the Indian whirled his 
tomahawk, at one and the same moment. Both blows took 
effect — and both were at once wounded and disarmed. The 
breech of the rifle was broken against the Indian's skull, and 
the edge of the tomahawk was shattered against the barrel 
of the rifle, having first cut off two of the fingers of Mor- 
gan's left hand. The Indian then attempting to draw his 
knife, Morgan grappled him and bore him to the ground. A 
furious struggle ensued, in which the old man's strength 
failed, and the Indian succeeded in turning him. Planting 
his knee in the breast of his enemy, and yelling loudly,asis 
usual with them upon any turn of fortune, he again felt for 
his knife in order to terminate the struggle at once — but ha- 
ving lately stolen a woman's apron, and tied it around his 
waist, his knife was so much confined, that he had great diffi- 
culty in fi idiag the handle. Morgan, in the mean time, be- 
fnga regular pugilist, according to the custom of Virginia, 
and perfectly at home in a ground struggle, took advantage 
of the awkwardness of the Indian, and got one of the fin- 
gers of his right hand between his teeth. The Indian tug- 
ged and roared in vain, struggling to extricate it Morgan 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 185 

held him fast, and began to assist him in hunting for the 
knife. Each seized it at the same moment, the Indian by 
the blade and Morgan by the handle, but with a very slight 
hold. The Indian having the firmest hold, began to draw the 
knife further out of its sheath, when Morgan suddenly giv- 
ing his finger a furious bite, twitched the knife dexterously 
through his hand, cutting it severely. Both now sprung to 
their feet, Morgan brandishing his adversary's knife, and 
still holding his finger between his teeth. In vain the poor 
Indian struggled to get away — rearing, plunging and bolting- 
like an unbroken colt. The teeth of the white man were like 
a vice, and he at length succeeded in giving him a stab in the 
side . The Indian received it without falling, the knife hav- 
ing struck his ribs; but a second blow, aimed at the stomach, 
proved more effectual, and the savage fell. Morgan thrust 
the knife, handle and all, into the cavity: of the body, direc- 
ted it upward, and starting to his feet, made the best of his 
way home. 

The neighborhood was quickly alarmed, and hurrying to 
the spot where the struggle had taken place, they found the 
first Indian lying where he had fallen, but the second had dis- 
appeared. A broad trail of blood, however, conducted to a fal- 
len tree top, within one hundred yards of the spot, into which 
the poor fellow had dragged himself, and where he now lay 
bleeding, but still alive. He had plucked the knife from his 
wound and was endeavoring to dress it with the stolen a- 
pron which had cost him his life, when his enemies approach- 
ed. The love of life appeared still strong within him, how- 
ever. He greeted them with what was intended for an in- 
sinuating smile, held out his hand and exclaimed in broken 
English, "how de do, broder ! how de do ! glad to see you V 
But poor fellow, the love was all on his side. Their broth- 
erhood extended only to tomahawking, scalping, and skin- 
ning him, all of which operations were performed within a 

16* 



186 SKETCHES OF 

few minutes after the meeting. To such an extent had mu 
tual injury inflamed botli parties. 

About the middle of July,. 1782, seven Wyandotte crossed 
the Ohio a few miles above Wheeling, and committed great 
depredations upon the southern shore, killing an old man 
Y/horn they found alone in his cabin, and spreading terror 
throughout the neighborhood. Within a few hours after 
their retreat, eight men assembled from different parts of the 
small settlement and pursued the enemy with great expedi- 
tion. Among the most active and efficient of the party were 
two brothers, Adam and Andrew Poe. Adam was particular- 
ly popular In strength, action and hardihood, he had no 
equal — being finely formed and inured to all the perils of 
the woods. They had not followed the trail far^ before they 
became satisfied that the depredators were conducted by 
Big Foot, a renowned chief of the Wyandott tribe, who de- 
rived his name from the immense size of his feet. His 
height considerably exceeded six feet, and his strength was 
represented as Herculean. He had also five brothers, but 
little inferior to himself in size and courage, and as they gen- 
erally went in company, they were the terror of the whole 
country. Adam Poe was overjoyed at the idea of measur- 
ing his strength with that of so celebrated a chief, and urg- 
ed the pursuit wih a keenness which quickly brought him 
into the vicinity of the enemy. For the last few miles, the 
trail had led them up the southern bank of the Ohio, where 
the footprints in the sand were deep and obvious, but when 
within a few hundred yards of the point at which the whites 
as well as the Indians were in the habit of crossing, it sud- 
denly diverged from the stream, and stretched along a rocky 
ridge, forming an obtuse angle with its former direction. 
Here Adam halted for a moment, and directed his brother 
and the other young men to follow the trail with proper cau- 
tion, while he himself still adhered to the river path, which 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 



18-7 



led through clusters of willows directly to the point where 
he supposed the enemy to lie. Having examined the pri- 
ming of his gun, he crept cautiously through the bushes, un- 
til he had a view of the point of embarcation. Here lay 
two canoes, empty and apparently deserted. Being satisfi- 
ed, however, that the Indians were close at hand, he relax- 
ed nothing of his vigilance, and quickly gained a jutting 
cliff, which hung immediately over the canoes. Hearing a 
low murmur beJow, he peered cautiously over, and beheld 
the object of his search. The gigantic Big Foot,, lay below 
him in the shade of a willow, and was talking in a low deep 
tone to another warrior, who seemed a mere pigmy by his 
side. Adam cautiously drew back, and cocked his gun, 
The mark was fair — the distance did not exceed twenty feet, 
and his aim was unerring. Raising his rifle slowly and 
cautiously, he took a steady aim at Big Foot's breast, and 
drew the trigger. His gun flashed. Both Indians sprung to 
their feet with a deep interjection of surprize, and for a sin- 
gle second all three stared upon each other. This inactivi- 
ty, however, was soon over. Adam was too much hamper- 
ed by the bushes to retreat, and setting his life upon a cast 
of the die, he sprung over the bush which had sheltered him, 
and summoning all his powers, leaped boldly down the pre- 
cipice and alighted upon the breast of Big Foot with a shock 
which bore him to the earth. At the moment of contact, 
Idam had also thrown his right arm around the neck of the 
smaller Indian, so that all three came to the earth together. 
At that momenta sharp firing was heard among the bushes 
above, announcing that the other parties were engaged, but 
the trio below were too busy to attend to any thing but them- 
selves. Big Foot was lor an instant stunned by the vio- 
lence of the shock, and Adam was enabled to keep them both 
down. But the exertion necessary for that purpose was so 
great, that he had no leisure to use his knife. Big Foot 



188 SKETCHES OF 

quickly recovered, and without attempting to rise, wrapped 
his long arms around Adam's body, and pressed him to his 
breast with the crushing force of a Boa Constrictor! Ad- 
am, as we have already remarked, was a powerful man, 
and had seldom encountered his equal, but never had he yet 
felt an embrace like that of Big Foot. He instantly relax- 
ed his hold of the small Indian, who sprung to his feet. Big 
Foot then ordered him to run for his tomahawk which lay 
within ten steps, and kill the white man, while he held him 
in his arms. Adam, seeing his danger, struggled manfully 
to extricate himself from the folds of the giant, but in vain. 
The lesser Indian approached with his uplifted tomahawk, 
but Adam watched him closely, and as he was about to 
strike, gave him a kick so sudden and violent, as to knock 
the tomahawk from his hand, and send him staggering back 
into the water. Big Foot uttered an exclamation in a tone of 
deep contempt at the failure of his companion, and raising 
his voice to its highest pitch, thundered out several words in 
the Indian tongue, which Adam could not understand, but 
supposed to be a direction for a second attack. The lesser 
Indian now again approached, carefully shunning Adam's 
heels, and making many motions with his tomahawk, in or- 
der to deceive him as to the point where the blow would fall. 
This lasted for several seconds, until a thundering exclama- 
tion from Big Foot, compelled his companion to strike. Such 
was Adam's dexterity and vigilance, however, that he man- 
aged to receive the tomahawk in a glancing direction upon 
his left wrist, wounding him deeply but not disabling him. 
He now made a sudden and desperate effort to free himself 
from the arms of the giant and succeeded. Instantly snatch- 
ing up a rifle (for the Indian could not venture to shoot for 
fear of hurting his companion) he shot the lesser Indian 
through the body. But scarcely had he done so when Big 
Foot arose, and placing one hand upon his collar and the oth- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 189 

er upon his hip, pitched him ten feet into the air, as he him- 
self would have pitched a child. Adam fell upon his back 
at the edge of the water, but before his antagonist could 
spring upon him, he was again upon his feet, and stung with 
rage at the idea of being handled so easily, he attacked his 
gigantic antagonist with a fury which for a time compensa- 
ted for inferiority of strength. It was now a fair fist fight 
between them, for in the hurry of the struggle neither had 
leisure to draw their knives. Adam's superior activity and 
experience as a pugilist, gave him great advantage. The 
Indian struck awkwardly, and finding himself rapidly drop- 
ping to leeward, he closed with his antagonist, and again 
hurled him to the ground. They quickly rolled into the riv- 
er, and the struggle continued with unabated fury, each at- 
tempting to drown the other. The Indian being unused to 
such violent exertion, and having been much injured by the 
first shock in his stomach, was unable to exert the same pow- 
ers which had given him such a decided superiority at first; 
and Adam, seizing him by the scalp lock, put his head un- 
der water, and held it there, until the faint struggles of the 
Indian induced him to believe that he was drowned, when 
he relaxed his hold and attempted to draw his knife. The 
Indian, however, to use Adam's own expression, "had only 
been possuming !" He instantly regained his feet, and in 
his turn put his adversary under. In the struggle, both were 
carried out into the current, beyond their depth, and each 
was compelled to relax his hold and swim for his life. There 
was still one loaded rifle upon the shore, and each swam hard 
in order to reach it, but the Indian proved the most expert 
swimmer, and Adam seeing that he should be too late, turn- 
ed and swam out into the stream, intending to dive and thus 
frustrate his enemy's intention. At this instant, Andrew, 
having heard that his brother was alone in a struggle with 
two Indians, and in great danger, ran up hastily to the edge 



190 SKETCHES OF 

of the bank above, in order to assist him. Another white 
man followed him closely, and seeing Adam in the river, cov- 
ered with blood, and swimming rapidly from shore, mistook 
him for an Indian and fired upon him, wounding him dan- 
gerously in the shoulder. Adam turned, and seeing his bro- 
ther, called loudly upon him to "shoot the big Indian upon 
the shore." Andrew's gun, however, was empty, having 
just been discharged. Fortunately, Big Foot had also seiz- 
ed the gun with which Adam had shot the lesser Indian, so 
that both were upon an equality. The contest now was who 
should load first. Big Foot poured in his powder first, and 
drawing his ramrod out of its sheath in too great a hurry, 
threw it into the river, and while he ran to recover it, Andrew 
gained an advantage. Still the Indian was but a second 
too late, for his gun was at his shoulder, when Andrew's ball 
entered his breast. The gun dropped from his hands and 
he fell forward upon his face upon the very margin of the 
river. Andrew, now alarmed for his brother, who was 
scarcely able to swim, threw down his gun and rushed into 
the river in order to bring him ashore — but Adam, more in- 
tent upon securing the scalp of Big Foot as a trophy, than 
upon his own safety, called loudly upon his brother to leave 
him alone and scalp the big Indian, who was now endeavor- 
ing to roll himself into the water, from a romantic desire, 
peculiar to the Indian warrior, of securing his scalp from 
the enemy. Andrew, however, refused to obey, and insist- 
ed upon saving the Jiving, before attending to the dead. 
Big Foot, in the mean time, had succeeded in reaching the 
deep water before he expired, and his body was borne off by 
the waves, without being stripped of the ornament and 
pride of an Indian warrior. 

Not a man of the Indians had escaped. Five of Big 
Foot's brothers, the flower of the Wyandott nation, had ac- 
companied him in the expedition, and all perished. It is said 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 191 

that the news of this calamity, threw the whole tribe into 
mourning. Their remarkable size, their courage, and their 
superior intelligence, gave them immense influence, which, 
greatly to their credit, was generally exerted on the side of 
humanity. Their powerful interposition, had saved many 
prisoners from the stake, and had given a milder character 
to the warfare of the Indians in that part of the country. A 
ehiefofthe same name was alive in that part of the coun- 
try so late as 1792, but whether a brother or son of Big Foot, 
is not known. Adam Poe recovered of his wounds, and 
lived many years after his memorable conflict; but never 
forgot the tremendous "hug" which he sustained in the arms 
of Big Foot. 



192 SKETCHES OF 



CHAPTER VII. 

The present, like the preceding chapter, will be devoted 
to miscellaneous items of intelligence, arranged in chrono- 
logical order. About the middle of the summer of 1792, 
a gentleman named Woods, imprudently removed from the 
neighborhood of a station, and for the benefit of his stock, set- 
tled on a lonely heath, near Beargrass. One morning, he 
left his family, consisting of a wife, a daughter not yet 
grown, and a lame negro man, and rode off to the nearest 
station, not expecting to return until night. Mrs. Woods, 
while engaged in her dairy, was alarmed at seeing several In- 
dians rapidly approaching the house. She instantly scream- 
ed loudly, in order to give the alarm, and ran with her ut- 
most speed, in order to reach the house before them. In this 
she succeeded, but had not time to close the door until the 
foremost Indian had forced his way into the house. As soon 
as he entered, the lame negro grappled him and attempted 
to throw him upon the floor, but was himself hurled to the 
ground with violence, the Indian falling upon him. Mrs. 
Woods was too busily engaged in keeping the door closed a- 
gainst the party without, to attend to the combatants, but the 
lame negro, holding the Indian in his arms, called to the 
young girl to cut his head off with a very sharp axe which 
lay under the bed. She attempted to obey, but struck with 
so trembling a hand, that the blow was ineffectual. Repeat- 
ing her efforts under the direction of the negro, however, she 
at length wounded the Indian so badly, that the negro was 
enabled to arise and complete the execution. Elated with 
success, he then called to his mistress and told her to suffer 
another Indian to enter and they would kill them all one by 



WBSTERN ADVENTURE. 193 

one. While deliberating upon this proposal, however* a 
sharp firing was heard without, and the Indians quickly dis- 
appeared. A party of white men had seen them at a dis- 
tance, and having followed them cautiously, had now inter- 
posed, at a very critical moment, and rescued a helpless 
family from almost certain destruction. 

In the spring of 1784, three young Kentuckians, Davis. 
Caffree, and McClure, pursued a party of southern Indians, 
who had stolen horses from Lincoln county, and finding it 
impossible to overtake them, they determined to go on to the 
nearest Indian settlement, and make reprisals — horse steal- 
ing being at that time a very fashionable amusement, and 
much practised on both sides. After travelling several days, 
they came within a few miles of an Indian town near the 
Tennessee river, called Chicacaugo. Here they fell in with 
three Indians, Finding themselves equal in point of num- 
bers, the two parties made signs of peace, shook hands and 
agreed to travel together. Each, however, was evidently 
suspicious of the other. The Indians walked upon one side 
of the road and the whites upon the other, watching each 
other attentively. At length, the Indians spoke together in 
tones so low and earnest, that the whites became satisfied of 
their treacherous intentions, and determined to anticipate 
them. Caffree being a very powerful man, proposed that he 
himself should seize one Indian, while Davis and McClure 
should shoot the other two. The plan w 7 as a bad one, but 
was unfortunately adopted. Caffree sprung boldly upon the 
nearest Indian, grasped his throat firmly, hurled him to the 
ground, and drawing a cord from his pocket attempted to tie 
him. At the same instant Davis and McClure attempted to 
perform their respective parts. McClure killed his man, 
but Davis 1 gun missed fire. All three, i. e. the two white 
men, and the Indian at whom Davis had flashed, immediate- 
ly took trees, and prepared for a skirmish, while Caffree m- 

17 



194 SKETCHES OP 

mained upon the ground with the captured Indian — both ex- 
posed to the fire of the others. In a few seconds, the sav- 
age at whom Davis had flashed, shot CafFree as he lay up- 
on the ground and gave him a mortal wound — -and was in- 
stantly shot in turn by McClure who had reloaded his gun. 
CafFree becoming very weak, called upon Davis to come 
and assist him in tying the Indian, and instantly afterwards 
expired. As Davis was running up to the assistance of his 
friend — the Indian now released by the death of his captor, 
sprung to his feet, and seizing CafFree's rifle, presented it 
menacingly at Davis, whose gun was not in order for ser 
vice, and who ran off* into the forest closely pursued by the 
Indian. McClure hastily reloaded his gun and taking up 
the rifle which Davis had dropped, followed them for some 
distance into the forest, making all those signals which had 
been concerted between them, in case of separation. All, 
however, was vain — he saw nothing more of Davis, nor 
could he ever afterwards learn his fate. As he never re 
turned to Kentucky, however, he probably perished. 

McClure, finding himself alone in the enemy's country, 
and surrounded by dead bodies, thought it prudent to aban- 
don the object of the expedition and return to Kentucky. He 
accordingly retraced his steps, still bearing Davis' rifle in 
addition to his own. He had scarcely marched a mile, be- 
fore he saw advancing from the opposite direction, an Indian 
warrior, riding c horse with a bell around its neck, and ac- 
companied by a boy on foot. Dropping one of the rifles, 
which might have created suspicion, McClure advanced with 
an air of confidence, extending his hand and making other 
signs of peace. The opposite party appeared frankly to 
receive his overtures, and dismounting, seated Jiimself upon 
a log, and drawing out his pipe, gave a few puffs himself, 
and then handed it to McClure. In a few minutes another 
bell was heard, at the distance of half a mile, aad a second 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 195 

party of Indians appeared upon horseback. The Indian 
with McClure now coolly informed him by signs that when 
the horsemen arrived, he (McClure) was to be bound and 
carried off as a prisoner with his feet tied under the horse's 
belly. In order to explain it more fully, the Indian got a- 
stride of the log, and locked his legs together underneath it. 
McClure internally thanking the fellow for his excess of can- 
dour, determined to disappoint him, and while his enemy was 
busily engaged in riding the log, and mimicking the actions 
of a prisoner, he v^ery quietly blew his brains out, and ran off 
into the woods. The Indian boy instantly mounted the belled 
horse, and rode off in an opposite direction. McClure was 
fiercely pursued by several small Indian dogs, that frequently 
ran between his legs and threw him down. After falling 
five or six times, his eyes became full of dust and he was to- 
tally blind. Despairing of escape, he doggedly lay upon 
his face, expecting every instant to feel the edge of the tom- 
ahawk. To his astonishment, however, no enemy appear- 
ed, and even the Indian dogs after tugging at him for a few 
minutes, and completely stripping him of his breeches, left 
him to continue his journey unmolested. Finding every- 
thing quiet, in a kw moments he arose, and taking up his 
gun, continued his march to Kentucky. He reached home 
in safety, and in 1820 was still alive. This communication 
is from his own lips, and may be relied upon as correct. 

In the course of the next year, many families came down 
the Ohio in boats, landed at Maysville, and continued their 
route by land, into such parts of the country as pleased 
them. Out of a number of incidents, which attended the 
passage of boats down the river, I shall select tw T o, as wor- 
thy of being mentioned. Col. Thomas Marshall, formerly 
commander of the third Virginia regiment on continental es- 
tablishment, and subsequently holding the same rank in the 
Virginia artillery, embarked with a numerous family on 



196 SKETCHES OF 

board of a flat bottomed boat, and descended the Ohio with- 
out any incident worthy of notice, until he had passed the 
mouth of Kenawha. Here, about ten o'clock at night ? he 
was hailed from the northern shore, by a man who spoke 
good English, and quickly announced himself as James Gir- 
ty, the brother of Simon, both of whom have already been 
repeatedly mentioned. The boat dropped slowly down with- 
in one hundred and fifty yards of the shore, and Girty ma- 
king a corresponding movement on the beach, the confer- 
ence was kept up for several minutes. He began by men- 
tioning his name, and enquiring that of the master of the 
boat. Having been satisfied upon this head, he assured him 
that he knew him well, respected him highly, &c. &c, and 
concluded with some rather extraordinary remarks. "He 
had been posted there, he said, by the order of his brother 
Simon, to warn all boats of the danger of permitting thenfr 
selves to be decoyed ashore. The Indians had become jeal- 
ous of him, and he had lost that influence which he former- 
ly held amongst thenv He deeply regretted the injury 
which he had inflicted upon his countrymen, and wished to 
be restored to their society. In order to convince them of 
the sincerity of his regard, he had directed him to warn all 
boats of the snares spread for them. Every effort would be 
made to draw passengers ashore. White men would appear 
on the bank — and children would be heard to supplicate for 
mercy. — But, coutinued he, do you keep the middle of the 
fiver, and steel your heart against every mournful applica- 
tion which you may receive." The Colonel thanked him 
for his intelligence, and continued his course. 

From this it would appear, that Girty's situation was by 
no means enviable. The superior intelligence which had 
first given him influence, gradually attracted envy. Com- 
binations were probably formed against him, as they are in, 
civilized life, against every man who is guilty of the unpar^ 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 197, 

donable offence of mounting rapidly above his fellows. Am- 
bition, jealousy, intrigue, combinations for particular objects, 
prevail as strongly among savages as among civilized beings, 
and spring in each from the same source — a tender,, pas- 
sionate, inordinate love of self — a passion the most univer- 
sal, deeply rooted, and infinitely diversified in its opera- 
tions, of any in existence — a passion as strong and easily 
offended in the degraded Hottentot, as in the Emperor Na- 
poleon, in the superanua'ed old woman, as in. the blooming 
belle — the only human passion which age cannot tame, or 
misery extinguish or expariance cure, or philosophy expel ;, 
which flutters as strongly in the jaws of death, as in the vig- 
or of life, and is as buoyant and ridiculous in the breast of 
the philosopher, as in that of a village beauty. Nothing 
more was ever heard of Girty's wish to be restored to his 
station in society; but his warning, by whatever motive dic- 
tated, was of service to many families. 

About the same time, Captain James Ward, at present a 
highly respectable citizen of Mason county, Ky,, was de- 
scending the Ohio, under circums'ances which rendered a 
rencontre with the Indians peculiarly to be dreaded. He, 
together with half a dozen others, one of them his nephew, 
embarked in a crazy boat, about forty five feet long, and 
e'^ht feet wide, with no other bulwark than a single pine 
plank, above each gunnel. The boat was much encumber- 
ed with baggage, and seven horses were on board. Having 
seen no enemy for several days, they had become secure 
and careless, and permitted the boat to dnft within fifty 
yards of the Ohio shore. Suddenly, several hundred Indi- 
ans showed themselves on the bank, and running down bold 
lv to the water's edge, opened a heavy fire upon the boat. 
The astonishment of the crew may be conceived. Captain 
Ward and his nephew were at the cars when the enemy ap- 
peared, and the captain knowing that their safety depended 

17* 



198 



SKETCHES OF 



upon their ability to regain the middle of the river, kept his 
seat firmly, and exerted his utmost powers at the oar, but hie? 
aephew started up at sight of the enemy, seized his rifle and 
was in the act of levelling it, when he received a ball in the 
breast, and fell dead in the bottom of the boat. Unfortu- 
nately, his oar fell into the river, and the Captain, having no 
one to pull against him, rather urged the boat nearer to the 
hostile shore than otherwise. He quickly seized a plank, 
however, and giving his own oar to another of the crew, he 
took the station which his nephew had held, and unhurt by 
the shower of bullets which flew around him, continued to 
exert himself, until the boat had reached a more respectable 
distance. He then, for the first time, looked around him in 
order to observe the condition of the crew. His nephew 
lay in his blood, perfectly lifeless— the horses had been all 
killed or mortally wounded. Some had fallen overboard — - 
others were struggling violently, and causing their frail 
bark to dip water so abundantly, as to excite the most seri- 
ous apprehensions. But the crew presented the most singu- 
lar spectacle. A captain, who had served with reputation in 
the continental army, seemed now totally bereft of his facul- 
ties. He lay upon his back in the bottom of the boat, with 
hands uplifted and a countenance in which terror was per- 
sonified,- exclaiming in a tone of despair, "Oh Lord! Oh! 
Lord!'* A Dutchman, whose weight might amount to about 
three hundred pounds, was anxiously engaged in endeavor- 
ing to find shelter for his bulky person, which, from the low- 
ness of the gunnels, was a very difficult undertaking. In 
spight of his utmost efforts, a portion of his posteriai luxuri- 
ance, appeared above the gunnel, and afforded a mark to the 
enemy, which brought a constant shower of balls around it. 
In vain he shifted his position. The hump still appeared^ 
and the balls still flew around it, until the Dutchman loosing 
all patience, raised his head above the gunnel, and in atone 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 199 

of querulous remonstrance, called out, "oh now! quit tat 
tamned nonsense, tere — will you!" Not a shot was fired 
from the boat. At one time, after they had partly regained 
the current, Capt. Ward attempted to bring his rifle to bear 
upon them, but so violent was the agitation of the boat, from 
the furious struggles of the horses, that he could not steady 
his piece within twenty yards of the enemy, and quickly 
laying it aside, returned to the oar. The Indians followed 
them down the river for more than an hour, but having noca- 
noes, they did not attempt to board ; and as the boat was at 
length transferred to the opposite side of the river, they at 
length abandoned the pursuit and disappeared. None of the 
crew, save the young man already mentioned, were hurt, 
although the Dutchman's seat of honor served as a target 
for the space of an hour, and the continental captain was 
deeply mortified at the sudden, and, as he said, "unaccount- 
able" panic which had seized him. Captain Ward himself 
was protected by a post, which had been fastened to the 
gunnel, and behind which he sat while rowing. 

In the month of August, 17S6 y Mr. Francis Downing^- 
then a mere lad, was living in a fort, where subsequently 
some iron works were erected by Mr. Jacob Myers, which 
are now known by the name of Slate creek works, and are 
the property of Col. Thomas DyeOwings. About the 16th ? 
a >oung man belonging to the fort, called upon Downing, and 
requested his assistance in hunting for a horse which had 
strayed away on the preceding evening. Downing readily 
complied, and the two friends traversed the woods in every 
direction, until at length, towards evening, they found them- 
selves in a wild valley, at the distance of six or seven miles 
from the fort. Here Downing became alarmed, and repeat- 
edly assured his elder companion, (whose name was Yates,} 
that he heard sticks cracking behind them, and was confi- 
dent that Indians were dogging them. Yates, being an ex- 



200 SKETCHES OF 

perienced hunter, and from habit grown indifferent to thte 
dangers of the woods, diverted himself freely at the ex- 
pense of his young companion, often enquiring, at what price 
he rated his scalp, and offering to ensure it for sixpence. 
Downing, however, was not so easily sntisfiad. Ue observ- 
ed, that in whatever direction they turned, the same omin- 
ous sounds continued to haunt them, and as Yates still treat- 
ed his fears with the most perfect indifference, he determined 
to take his measures upon his own responsibility. Gradu- 
ally slackening his pace, he permitted Yates to advance 
twenty or thirty steps in front of him, and immediately af- 
ter descending a gentle hill, he suddenly sprung aside and 
hid himself in a thick cluster of wh>rtlebury bushes. Yates, 
who at that time was performing some woodland ditty to the 
full extent of his lungs, was too much pleased with his own 
voice, to attend either to Downing or the Indians, and was 
quickly out of sight. Scarcely had he disappeared when 
Downing, to his unspeakable terror, beheld two savages put 
aside the stalks of a canebrake, and look out cautiously in 
the direction which Yates had taken. Fearful that they had 
seen him step aside, he determined to fire upon them, and 
trust to his heels for safety, but so unsteady was his hand, 
that in raising his gun to his shoulder, she went off be 
fore he had taken aim. He lost no time in following her 
example, and after having run fifty yards, he met Yates, 
who, alarmed at the report, was hastily retracing his steps. 
It was not necessary to enquire what was the matter. The 
enemy were in fall view, pressing forward with great rapid- 
ity, and "devil take the hindmost," was the order of the 
day. Yates would not outstrip Downing, but ran by his side, 
although in so doing he risked both of their lives. The In- 
dians were well acquainted with the country, and soon took 
a path that diverged from the one which thn whites fol- 
lowed, at one point and rejoined it at. another, bearing the 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 



201 



same relation to it, that the string does to the bow. The 
two paths were at no point, distant from each other more 
than one hundred yards, so that Yates and Downing could 
easily see the enemy gaining rapidly upon them. They 
reached the point of re-union first, however, and quickly 
came to a deep gulley which it was necessary to cross, or 
retrace their steps. Yates cleared it without difficulty, but 
Downing being much exhausted, fell short, and falling with 
his breast against the opposite brink, rebounded with vio- 
lence and fell at full length on the bottom. The Indians 
crossed the ditch a few yards below him y and eager for the 
capture of Yates, continued the pursuit, without appearing 
to notice Downing. The latter, who at first had given him- 
self up for lost, quickly recovered his strength and began ta 
walk slowly along the ditch, fearing to leave it lest the ene- 
my should see him. As he advanced, however, the ditch 
became more shallow, until at length it ceased to potect him 
at all. Looking around cautiously, he saw one of the Inci-*- 
ans returning apparently in quest of him. Unfortunately, 
he had neglected to reload his gun, while in the ditch, and a» 
the Indian instantly advanced upon him, he had no resource 
but flight. Throwing away his gun, which was new use- 
less, he plied his legs manfully, in ascending a long ridge 
which stretched before him, but the Indian gained upon him 
so rapidly, that he lost all hope of escape. Coming at length 
to a large poplar which had been blown up by the roots, he 
ran along the body of the tree upon one side, while the Indi- 
an followed it upon the other, doubtless expecting to inter- 
cept him at the root. But here the supreme dominion of for- 
tune was manifested. It happened that a large she bear 
was suckling her cubs in a bed which she had made at the 
root of the tree, and as the Indian reached that point first, 
she instantly sprung upon him, and a prodigious uproar took 
place. The Indian yelled, and stabbed with his knife, the 



202 8KETCHES OF 

bear growled and saluted him with one of her most endear- 
ing "hugs ;" — while Downing, fervently wishing her suc- 
cess, ran off through the woods, without waiting to see the 
event of the struggle. Downing reached the fort in safety, 
and found Yates reposing after a hot chace, having eluded 
his pursuers, and gained the fort two hours before him. On 
the next morning, they collected a party and returned to the 
poplar tree, but no traces either of the Indian or bear were 
to be found. They both probably escaped with their lives al~ 
hough not without injury. 

On the night of the 11th of April, 1787, the house of a 
widow, in Bourbon county, became the scene of an adven 
ture, which we think deserves to be related. She occupied 
what is generally called a double cabin, in a lonely part of 
the county, one room of which was tenanted by the old lady 
herself, together with two grown sons, and a widowed daugh- 
ter, at that time suckling an infant, while the other was oc 
eupied by two unmarried daughters from sixteen to twenty 
years of age, together with a little girl not more than half 
grown. The hour was J I o'ciock at night. One of the un- 
married daughters was still busily engaged at the loom, but 
the other members of the family, with the exception of one 
of the sons, had retired to rest. Some symptoms of an alar- 
ming nature had engaged the attention of the young man 
for an hour before any thing of a decided character took 
place. The cry of owls were heard in the adjoining wood, 
answering each other in rather an unusual manner. The 
horses, which were enclosed as usual in a pound near the 
house, were more than commonly excited, and by repeated 
snorting and galloping, announced the presence of some ob- 
ject of terror. Thevoungman was often upon the point of 
awakening his brother, but was as often restrained by the 
fear of incurring ridicule and the reproach of timidity, at 
that tirne an unpardonable blemish in the character of a Ken- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 203 

tuckian. At length, hasty steps were heard in the yard, 
and quickly afterwards, several loud knocks at the door, ac 
companied by the usual exclamation, "who keeps house ?" 
in very good English. The young man, supposing from the 
language, that some benighted settlers were at the door, has- 
tily arose, and was advancing to withdraw the bar which se- 
cured it, when his mother, who had long lived upon the fron- 
tiers, and had probably detected the Indian tone in the de- 
mand for admission, instantly sprung out of bed, and order- 
ed her son not to admit them, declaring that they were Indi- 
ans. She instantly awakened her other son, and the two 
young men seizing their guns, which were always charged, 
prepared to repel the enemy. The Indians finding it impos- 
sible to enter under their assumed characters, began to thun- 
der at the doorwi h great violence, but a single shot from a 
loophole, compelled them to shift the attack to some less ex- 
posed point; and. unfortunately, they discovered the door of 
the other cabin, which contained the three daughters. The 
rifles of the brothers could not be brought to bear upon this 
point, and by means of several rails taken from the yard 
fence, the door was orced from its hinges and the three girls 
were at the m vey of the savages. One was instantly secur- 
ed, but the eldest defended herself desperately with a knife 
which she had been using at the loom, and stabbed one of 
the Indians to the heart, before she was tomahawked. In 
the mean time the little girl, who had been overlooked by 
the enemy in their eagerness to secure the other?, ranout into 
the yard, and might have effected her escape, had she taken 
advantage of the darkness and fled, but instead of that the 
terrified little creature ran around the house wringing her 
hands, imd cry incr out that her sisters were killed. The bro- 
thers, unable to hear her cries, without risking every thing 
for her rescue, rushed to the door and were preparing to sal- 
ly ont to hor assistance, when their mother threw herself b& 



204 SKETCHES OP 

fore them and calmly declared that the child must be aban- 
doned to its fate — that the sally would sacrifice the lives of 
all the rest without the slightest benefit to the little ffirl. 
Just then the child uttered a loud scream, followed by a few 
faint moans and all was again silent. Presently the crack- 
ling of flames was heard, accompanied by a triumphant yell 
from the Indians, announcing that they had set fire to that di- 
vision of the house which had been occupied by the daugh- 
ters, and of which they held undisputed possession. The 
fire was quickly communicated to the rest of the building, 
and it became necessary to abandon it or perish in the flames. 
In the one case, there was a possibility that some might escape ; 
in the other, their fate would be equally certain and terrible. 
The rapid approach of the flames cut short their momenta- 
ry suspense. The door was thrown open, and the old lady, 
supported by her eldest son, attempted to cross the fence at 
one point, while her daughter carrying her child in her 
arms, and attended by the younger of the brothers, ran in a 
different direction. The blazing roof shed a light over the 
yard but little inferior to that of day, and the savages were 
distinctly seen awaiting the approach of their victims. The 
old lady was permitted to reach the style unmolested, but in 
the act of crossing, received several balls in her breast and 
fell dead. Her son, providentially, remained unhurt, and by 
extraordinary agility, effected his escape. The other party 
succeeded also in reaching the fence unhurt, but in the act 
of crossing, were vigorously assailed by several Indians, 
who throwing down their guns, rushed upon them with their 
tomahawks. The young man defended his sister gallantly, 
firing upon the enemy *£s they approached, and then wielding 
the but of his rifle with a fury that drew their whole atten- 
tion upon himself, and gave his sister an opportunity of ef- 
fecting her escape. He quickly fell, however, under the 
tomahawk, of his enemies, and was found at daylight, scalp- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 205 

eel and mangled in a shocking manner. Of the whole fami- 
ly, consisting of eight persons, when the attack commenced, 
only three escaped, Four were killed upon the spot, and 
one (the second daughter) carried off as a prisoner. 

The neighborhood was quickly alarmed, and by daylight, 
about thirty men were assembled under the command of 
Col. Edwards. Alight snow had fallen during the latter 
part of the night, and the Indian trail could be pursued at a 
gallop. It led directly into the mountainous country bor- 
dering upon Licking, and afforded evidences of great hurry 
and precipitation on the part of the fugitives. Unfortunate- 
ly, a hound had been permitted to accompany the whites, 
and as the trail became fresh and the scent warm, she follow- 
ed it with eagerness, baying loudly and giving the alarm to 
the Indians. The consequences of this imprudence were 
soon displayed. The enemy finding the pursuit keen, and 
perceiving that the strength of the prisoner began to fail, in- 
stantly sunk their tomahawks in her head and left her, still 
warm and bleeding upon the snow. As the whites came 
up, she retained strength enough to wave her hand in token 
of recognition, aud appeared desirous of giving them some 
information, with regard to the enemy, but her strength was 
too far gone. Her brother sprung from his horse and knelt 
by her side, endeavoring to stop the effusion of blood, but in 
vain. She gave him her hand, muttered some inarticulate 
words, and expired within two minutes after the arrival of 
the party . The pursuit was renewed with additional ar- 
dor, and in twenty minutes the enemy was within view. 
They had taken possession of a steep narrow ridge and 
>eemed desirous of magnifying their numbers in the eyes of 
the whites, as they ran rapidly from tree to tree, and main- 
tained a steady yell in their most appalling tones. The pur- 
suers, however, were too experienced to be deceived by so 
common an artifice, and being satisfied that the number of 

18 



206 SKETCHES OF 

the enemy must be inferior to their own, they dismounted, 
tied their horses, and flanking out in such a manner as to 
enclose the enemy, ascended the ridge as rapidly as was con- 
sistent with a due regard to the shelter of their persons. The 
firing quickly commenced, and now for the first time they 
discovered that only two Indians were opposed to them. 
They had voluntarily sacrificed themselves for the safety of 
the main body, and had succeeded in delaying pursuit until 
their friends could reach the mountains. One of them was 
instantly shot dead, and the other was badly wounded, as 
was evident from the blood upon his blanket, as well as that 
which filled his tracks in the snow for a considerable dis- 
tance. The pursuit was recommenced, and urged keenly 
until night, when the trail entered a running stream and was 
lost. On the following morning the snow had melted, and 
every trace of the enemy was obliterated. This affair must 
be regarded as highly honorable to the skill, address, and acti- 
vity of the Indians, and the self devotion of the rear guard, is a 
lively instance of that magnanimity of which they are at 
times capable, and which is more remarkable in them, from 
the extreme caution, and tender regard for their own lives, 
which usually distinguishes their warriors. 

A fe^v weeks after this melancholy affair, a very remarka- 
ble incident occurred in the same neighborhood. One mor- 
ning, about sun rise, a young man of wild and savage ap- 
pearance, suddenly arose from a cluster of bushes in front 
of a cabin, and hailed the house, in a barbarous dialect, 
which seemed neither exactly Indian nor English, but a col- 
lection of shreds and patches from which the graces of both 
were carefully excluded. His skin had evidently once been 
white — although now grievously tanned by constant expo- 
sure to the weather. His dress in every respect was that 
of an Indian, as were his gestures, tones and equipments, and 
his age could not be supposed to exceed twenty years. He 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 20? 

talked volubly but uncouthly, placed his hand upon his 
breast, gestured vehemently, and seemed very earnestly bent 
upon communicating something. He was invited to enter 
the cabin, and the neighbors quickly collected around him. 
He appeared involuntarily to shrink from contact with them 
— his eyes rolled rapidly around with a distrustful expres- 
sion from one to the other, and his whole manner was that of 
a wild animal, just caught, and shrinking from the touch of 
its captors. As several present understood the Indian tongue, 
they at length gathered the following circumstances, as ac- 
curately as they could be translated, out of a language 
which seemed to* be an "omnium gatherum" of all that 
was mongrel, uncouth and barbarous, He said that he had 
been taken by the Indians, when a child, but could neither 
recollect his name, nor the country of his birth. That he 
had been adopted by an Indian warrior, who brought him up 
with his other sons, without making the slightest difference 
between them, and that under his father's roof, he had lived 
happily until within the last month. A few weeks before 
that time, his father, accompanied by himself and a young- 
er brother, had hunted for some time upon the waters of the 
Miami, about forty miles from the spot where Cincinnati 
now stands, and after all their meat, skins &c. had [been 
properly secured, the old man determined to gratify his chil- 
dren by taking them upon a war expedition to Kentucky. 
They accordingly built a bark canoe, in which they crossed 
the Ohio near the mouth of Licking, and having buried it, 
so as to secure it from the action of the suu, they advanced 
into the country and encamped at the distance of fifteen 
miles from the river. Here their father was alarmed by 
hearing an owl cry in a peculiar tone, which he declared bo- 
ded death or captivity to themselves, if they continued their 
expedition — and announced his intention of returning with- 
out delay to the river. Both of his sons vehemently oppos- 



208 SKETCHES OF 

ed this resolution, and at length prevailed upon the old man 
to disregard theowTs warning, and conduct them, as he had 
promised, against the frontiers of Kentucky. The party 
then composed themselves to sleep, but were quickly awa- 
kened by the father, who had again been warned in a dream 
that death awaited them in Kentucky, and again besought 
his children to release him from his promise and loose no 
time in returning home. Again they prevailed upon him 
to disregard the warning, and persevere in the march. He 
consented to gratify them, but declared he would not remain 
a moment longer in the camp which they now occupied, 
and accordingly they left it immediately, and marched on 
through the night, directing their course towards Bour- 
bon County. In the evening, they approached a house, that 
which he had hailed and in which he was now speaking. 
Suddenly, the desire of rejoining his people occupied his 
mind so strongly as to exclude every other idea, and seizing 
the first favorable opportunity, he had concealed himself in 
the bushes, and neglected to reply to all the signals which 
had been concerted for the purpose of collecting their party 
when scattered. This account appeared so extraordinary, 
and the young man's appearance was so wild and suspicious, 
that many of the neighbors suspected him of treachery, and 
thought that he should be arrested as a spy. Others oppos- 
ed this resolution and gave full credit to his narrative. In 
order to satisfy themselves, however, they insisted upon his 
instantly conducting them to the spot where the canoe had 
been buried. To this the young man objected most vehe- 
mently, declaring that although he had deserted his father 
and brother, yet he would not betray them. These feelings 
were too delicate to meet with much sympathy from the rude 
borderers who surrounded him, and he was given to under- 
stand that nothing short of conducting them to the point of 
embarcation, would be accepted as an evidence of his sin- 






WESTERN ADVENTURE. 



209 



cerity. With obvious reluctance he at length complied. 
From twenty to thirty men were quickly assembled, moun- 
ted upon good horses, and under the guidance of the deser- 
ter, they moved rapidly towards the mouth of Licking. On 
the road, the young man informed them that he would first 
conduct them to the spot, where they had encamped when 
the scream of the owl alarmed his father, and where an 
iron kettle had been left concealed in a hollow tree. He was 
probably induced to do this from the hope of delaying the 
pursuit so long as to afford his friends an opportunity of cros- 
sing the river in safety. But if such was his intention, no 
measure could have been more unfortunate. The whites 
approached the encampment in deep silence, and quickly per- 
ceived two Indians, an old man and a boy, seated by the 
fire and busily employed in cooking some venison. The de- 
serter became much agitated at the sight of them, and so ear- 
nestly implored his countrymen not to kill them, that it was 
agreed to surround the encampment, and endeavor to se- 
cure them as prisoners, This w T as accordingly attempted, 
but so desperate was the resistance of the Indians, and so 
determined were their efforts to escape, that the whites were 
compelled to fire upon them, and the old man fell mortally 
wounded, while the boy, by an incredible display of address 
and activity, was enabled to escape. The deserter beheld 
his father fall, and throwing himself from his horse, he ran 
up to the spot where the old man lay bleeding but still sensi- 
ble, and falling upon his body, besought, his forgiveness for 
being the unwilling cause of his death, and wept bitterly. 
His father evidently recognised him, and gave him his hand, 
but almost instantly afterwards expired. The white men 
now called upon him to conduct them at a gallop to the spot 
where the canoe was buried, expecting to reach it before the 
Indian boy and intercept him. The deserter in vain implor- 
ed them to compassionate his feelings. He urged that he 

18* 



210 SKETCHES OF 

had already sufficiently demonstrated the truth of his for- 
mer assertions, at the expense of his father's life, and ear- 
nestly entreated them to permit his younger brother to es- 
cape. His companions, however, were inexorable. Noth- 
ing but the blood of the young Indian would satisfy them, 
and the deserter was again compelled to act as a guide. With- 
in two hours they reached the designated spot. The canoe 
was still there and no track could be seen upon the sand, so 
that it was evident that their victim had not yet arrived. 
Hastily dismounting, they tied their horses and concealed 
themselves within close rifle shot of the canoe. Within ten 
minutes after their arrival, the Indian appeared in sight, wal- 
king swiftly towards them. He went straight to the spot 
where the canoe had been buried, and was in the act of dig- 
ging it up, when he received a dozen balls through his body, 
and leaping high into the air, fell dead upon the sand. He 
was instantly scalped and buried where he fell, without hav- 
ing seen his brother, and probably without having known 
the treachery by which he and his father had lost their lives. 
The deserter remained but a short time in Bourbon, and 
never regained his tranquility of mind. He shortly after- 
wards disappeared, but whether to seek his relations in Vir- 
ginia or Pennsylvania, or whether disgusted by the ferocity 
of the whites, he returned to the Indians, has never yet been 
knowm. He was never heard of afterwards. 

During the summer, the house of Mr. John Merril, of Nel- 
son county, Ky., was attacked by the Indians, and defended 
with singular address and good fortune. Merril was alarm- 
ed by the barking of a dog about midnight, and upon open- 
ing the door in order to ascertain the cause of the disturb- 
ance, he received the fire of six or seven Indians, by which 
his arm and thigh were both broken. He instantly sunk up- 
on the floor and called upon his wife to close the door. This 
had scarcely been done, when it was violently assailed by 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 211 

the tomahawks of the enemy, and a large breach soon ef- 
fected. Mrs. Merril, however, being a perfect Amazon both 
in strength and courage, guarded it with an axe, and suc- 
cessively killed or badly wounded four of the enemy as the} 
attempted to force their way into the cabin. The Indians 
then ascended the roof and attempted to enter by way of the 
chimney, but here, again, they were met by the same determ- 
ined enemy. Mrs. Merril seized the only feather bed, which 
the cabin afforded, and hastily ripping it open, poured its 
contents upon the fire. A furious blaze and stifling smoke 
instantly ascended the chimney, and q uickly brought down two 
of the enemy, who lay for a few moments at the mercy of the 
lady. Seizing the axe, she quickly despatched them, and was 
instantly afterwards summoned to the door, where the only 
remaining savage now appeared endeavoring to effect an en- 
trance, while Mrs. Merril was engaged at the chimney. He 
soon received a gash in the cheek, which compelled him with 
a h ud yell to relinquish his purpose, and return hastily to 
Chillicothe, where, from the report of a prisoner, he gave an 
exaggerated account of the fierceness, strength and courage 
of the "long knife squaw P 



212 SKETCHES OF 



CHAPTER VIII 

In the month of April, 1792, a number of horses belong- 
ing to Captain Luther Calvin, of Mason county, were sto- 
len by the Indians ; and, as usual, a strong party volunteered 
to go in pursuit of the enemy and recover the property. 
The party consisted of thirty seven men, commanded by 
Captains Calvin and Kenton, and was composed chiefly of 
young farmers, most of whom had never yet met an enemy. 
The present Captain Chaeles Ward, Deputy Sheriff of 
Mason county, was one of the volunteers, and was at that 
time a mere lad, totally unacquainted with Indian warfare. 
They rendezvoused upon the Kentucky shore, immediately 
opposite Ripley, and crossing the river in a small ferry boat, 
pursued the trail for five or six miles with great energy. 
Here, however, a specimen of the usual caprice and uncer- 
tainty attending the motions of militia, was given. One of 
the party, whose voice had been loud and resolute while on 
the Kentucky shore, all at once managed to discover that the 
enterprize was rash, ill advised, and if prosecuted, would 
certainly prove disastrous. A keen debate ensued, in which 
young Spencer Calvin, then a lad of eighteen, openly accused 
the gentleman alluded to of cowardice, and even threatened to 
take the measure of his shoulders with a ramrod, on the spot 
By the prompt interference of Kenton and the elder Calvin,the 
young man's wrath was appeased for the time, and all those 
who peferred safety to honor, were invited instantly to re- 
turn. The permission was promptly accepted, and no less 
than fifteen men, headed by the recreant already men- 
tioned, turned their horses' heads and reerossed the river. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 213 

The remainder, consisting chiefly of experienced warriors, 
continued the pursuit. 

The trail led them down on the Miami, and about noon, 
on the second day, they heard a bell in front, apparently 
from a horse grazing. Cautiously approaching it, the}' 
quickly beheld a solitary Indian, mounted on horseback, 
and leisurely advancing towards them. A few of their 
best marksmen fired upon him and brought him to the ground. 
After a short consultation, it was then determined to follow 
his back trail, and ascertain whether there were more in the 
neighborhood. A small, active, resolute woodsman, named 
Mclntyre, accompanied by three others, was pushed on in 
advance, in order to give them early notice of the enemy's 
appearance, while the main body followed at a more leisure- 
ly pace. Within an hour, Mclntyre returned, and reported 
that they were then within a short distance of a large party 
of Indians, supposed to be greatly superior to their own. 
That they were encamped in a bottom upon the borders of a 
creek, and were amusing themselves, apparently awaiting 
the arrival of the Indian whom they had just killed, as they 
would occasionally halloo loudly, and then laugh immoderate- 
ly, supposing, probably, that their comrade had lost his way. 
This intelligence fell like a shower bath upon the spirits of 
the party, who, thinking it more prudent to put a greater 
interval between themselves and the enemy, set spurs to 
their horses, and galloped back in the direction from which 
they had come. Such was the panic, that one of the foot- 
men, a huge hulking fellow, six feet high, in his zeal for his 
own safety, sprung up behind Capt. Calvin, (who was then 
mounted upon Capt. Ward's horse, the Captain having dis- 
mounted in order to accommodate him,) and nothing short of 
a threat to blow his brains out, could induce him to dismount. 
In this orderly manner, they scampered through the woods 
for several miles, when, in obedience to the orders of Ken- 



214 9KETCHES OP 

ton and Calvin, they halted, and prepared for resistance in 
case (as was probable,) the enemy had discovered them, 
and were engaged in the pursuit. Kenton and Calvin Avere 
engaged apart in earnest consultation. It was proposed that 
a number of saplings should be cut down and a temporary 
breastwork erected, and while the propriety of these meas- 
ures were under discussion, the men were left to them- 
selves. 

Captain Ward, as we have already observed, was then 
very young, and perfectly raw. He had been in the habit 
of looking up to one man as a perfect Hector, having al- 
ways heard him represented in his own neighborhood as a 
man of redoubted courage, and a perfect Anthropophagus 
among the Indians. When they halted, therefore, he natu- 
rally looked around for his friend, hoping to read safety, 
courage, and assurance of success in that countenance, usu- 
ally so ruddy and confident. But, alas! the gallant warrior 
was wofully chop-fallen. There had, generally, been a rud- 
dy tinge upon the tip of his nose, which some ascribed to 
the effervescence of a fiery valour, while others, more mali- 
ciously inclined, attributed it to the fumes of brandy. Even 
this burning beacon had been quenched, and had assumed a 
livid ashy hue, still deeper if possible than that of his lips . 
Captain Ward thinking that the danger must be appalling, 

which could damp the ardor of a man like — , instantly 

became grievously frightened himself, and the contagion 
seemed spreading rapidly, when Kenton and Calvin rejoined 
them, and speaking in a cheerful, confident tone, completely 
reanimated their spirits. 

Finding themselves not pursued by the enemy, as they 
had expected, it was determined, that they should remain in 
their present position until night, when a rapid attack was 
to be made in two divisions, upon the Indian camp, under 
the impression that the darkness of the night, and the sur-- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 215 

prize of the enemy, might give them an advantage, which 
they could scarcely hope for in daylight. Accordingly, ev- 
ery thing remaining quiet at dusk, they again mounted and 
advanced rapidly, but in profound silence, upon the Indian 
camp. It was ascertained that the horses which the enemy 
had stolen, were grazing in a rich bottom below their 
camp. As they were advancing to the attack, therefore, 
Calvin detached his son with several halters, which he had 
borrowed from the men, to regain their own horses, and be 
prepared to carry them off in case the enemy should over- 
power them. The attack was then made in two divisions. 
Calvin conducted the upper and Kenton the lower party. 
The wood was thick, but the moon shone out clearly, and 
enabled them to distinguish objects with sufficient precision. 
Calvin's party came first in contact with the enemy. They 
had advanced within thirty yards of a large fire in front of 
a number of tents, without having seen a single Indian, when 
a dog which had been watching them for several minutes, 
sprung forward to meet them, baying loudly. Presently an 
Indian appeared approaching cautiously towards them, 
and occasionally speaking to the dog in the Indian tongue. 
This sight was too tempting to be borne, and Calvin heard 
the tick of a dozen rifles in rapid succession, as his party 
cocked them in order to fire. The Indian was too close to 
permit him to speak, but turning to his men he earnestly 
waved his hand as a warning to be quiet. Then cautiously 
raising his own rifle, he fired with a steady aim, just as the 
Indian had reached the fire, and stood fairly exposed to its 
light. The report of the rifle instantly broke the stillness 
of the night, and their ears were soon deafened by the yells 
of the enemy. The Indian at whom Calvin had fired, fell 
forward into the burning pile of faggots, and by his strug- 
gling to extricate himself, scattered the brands so much, as 
almost to extinguish the light. Several dusky forms, glan- 



216 SKETCHES OF 

ced rapidly before them for a moment, which drew a vollev 
from his men, but with what effect could not be ascertained. 
Calvin, having discharged his piece, turned so rapidly as to 
strike the end of his ramrod against a tree behind him, and 
drive it into its sheath with such violence, that he was una- 
ble to extricate it for several minutes, and finally fractured 
two of his teeth in the effort. 

A heavy fire now commenced from the Indian camp, 
which was returned with equal spirit by the whites, but 
without much effect on either side. Trees were barked ve- 
ry plentifully, dogs bayed, the Indians yelled, the whites 
shouted, the squaws screamed, and a prodigious uproar was 
maintained for about fifteen minutes, when it was reported 
to Calvin that Kenton's party had been overpowered, and 
was in full retreat. It was not necessary to give orders for 
a similar movement. No sooner had the intelligence been 
received, than the Kentuckians of the upper division broke 
their ranks and every man attempted to save himself as he 
best could. They soon overtook the lower division, and a 
hot scramble took place for horses. One called upon an- 
other to wait for him until he could catch his horse, which 
had broken his bridle, but no attention was paid to the re- 
quest. Some fled upon their own horses, others mounted 
those of their friends. "First come, first served," seemed to 
be the order of the night, and a sad confusion of property took 
place, in consequence of which, to their great terror, a few 
were compelled to return on foot. The flight was originally 
caused by the panic of an individual. As the lower divis- 
ion moved up to the attack, most of the men appeared to ad- 
vance with alacrity. 

Captain Ward, however, happened to be stationed next to 
Mclntyre, whom we have already had occasion to mention 
as a practised woodsman and peculiarly expert marksman. 
Heretofore, he had always been foremost in every danger, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. >217 

and had become celebrated for the address,, activity, and 
boldness with which he had acquitted himself. As they 
were ascending the gentle acclivity upon which the Indian 
camp stood, however, he appeared much dejected, and 
spoke despondingly of their enterprize. He declared that 
it had been revealed to him in a dream, on the preceding 
night, that their efforts would be vain, and that he himself 
was destined to perish. That he was determined to fight, as 
long as any man of the party stood his ground, but if the 
whites were wise, they would instantly abandon the attempt 
upon the enemy, and recross the Ohio, as rapidly as possible. 
These observations made but little impression upon Ward, 
but seemed to take deep root in the mind of the gentleman 
whose pale face had alarmed the company at the breastwork. 
The action quickly commenced, and at the first fire from 

the Indians, Barre, a young Kentuckian, w r as shot by 's 

side. This circumstance completed the overthrow of his 
courage, which had declined visibly since the first encoun- 
ter in the morning, and elevating his voice to its shrillest 
notes, he shouted aloud, Ci Boys! it wont do for us to be here 
— Barre is killed, and the Indians are crossing the creek P 
Bonaparte has said, that there is a critical period in every 
battle, when the bravest men will eagerly seize an excuse 
to run away. The remark is doubly true with regard to mi- 
litia. No sooner had this speech been uttered by one who 
had never yet been charged with cowardice, than the rout 
instantly took place and all order was disregarded. Fortu- 
nately, the enemy were equally frightened, and probably 
would have fled themselves, had the whites given them time. 
No pursuit took place for several hours, nor did they then 
pursue the trail of the main body of fugitives. But it unfor- 
tunately happened that Mclntyre, instead of accompanying 
the rest, turned off from the main route, and returned to the 
breastwork where some flour and venison had been left. 

19 



218 SKETCHES OF 

The Indians quickly became aware of the circumstance, and 
following with rapidity, overtook, tomahawked, and scalped 
him, while engaged in preparing breakfast on the following 
morning. Thus was his dream verified. The prediction 
in this case as in many others, probably produced its own ac- 
complishment by confounding his mind, and depriving him 
of his ordinary alertness and intelligence. He certainly 
provoked his fate, by his own extraordinary rashness. 
NOTE. 
It is somewhat remarkable, that a brother of Captain 
Ward's was in the Indian camp at the moment when it was 
attacked. He had been taken by the Indians in 1758, be- 
ing at that time only three years old, had been adopted as a 
member of the Shawanee tribe and had married an Indian 
woman by whom he had several children, all of whcm, togeth- 
er with their mother, were then in camp. Captain Ward 
has informed the writer of this narrative, that, a few seconds 
before the firing began, while he steed within rife shot of 
the encampment, an Indian girl apparently fifteen years of 
age attracted his attention. She stood for an instant in an at- 
titude of alarm, in front of one of the tents, and gazed in- 
tently upon the spot where he then stood. Not immediate- 
ly perceiving that it was a female, he raised his gun, and 
was upon the point of firing, when her open besom announ- 
ced her sex, and her peculiarly light complexion caused him 
to doubt for a moment whether she could be an Indian by 
birth. He afterwards ascertained that she was his brother's 
child. 

It appears still more remarkable, that exactly one year af- 
terwards, John Ward, the adopted Indian, should have been 
opposed to another one of his brothers, Capt. James Ward, 
of Mason, in a night skirmish somewhat resembling that 
which we have just detailed. Capt. James Ward, togeth- 
er with Kenton, Baker and about thirty others, while engaged 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 219 

in pursuit of some stolen horses, fell upon a fresh trail of In- 
dians, that crossed the road which they were then pursuing. 
Instantly abandoning their former object, they followed the 
fresh trail with great eagerness, and a short time after dark 
arrived at an encampment. Having carefully reconnoitered 
it, they determined to reman quiet until daylight, and then 
fall upon the enemy as before, in two divisions, one to be 
commanded by Kenton and the other by Baker. Every 
thing remained quiet until four o'clock in the morning, when 
Baker moved at the head of his party, in order to take the 
appointed position, (which was very advantageous, and in 
conjunction with Kenton's, completely surrounded the ene- 
my,) while Kenton remained stationary, awaiting the sig- 
nal of attack. By some mistake, Baker moved in a false 
direction, and, to the surprize of both parties, instead of en- 
closing the Indian camp, he fell directly upon it. A heavy 
firing, and the usual yelling, quickly announced the fact to 
Kenton, who moved hastily up to the assistance of his friends. 
It was still perfectly dark and the firing was of course at 
random. Baker, in whose fiery character, courage predom- 
inated over every thing else, lost all patience at the restraint 
under which they lay, and urged strenuously, that they should 
rush upon the enemy, and decide the affair at once with the 
tomahawk; but Kenton, whom repeated misfortunes had 
rendered extremely cautious, opposed it so vehemently, that 
it was not done. One of their men had fallen, and they 
could hear one of the enemy, apparently not more than thir- 
ty yards from them, groan < deeply, and occasionally eon- 
verse with his companions in the Indian tongue. The 
wounded man was the unfortunate John Ward, whose hard 
fate it was, to fight against the whites in a battle in which his 
own father was killed, to encounter two of his brothers in the 
field, and finally to fall mortally wounded in a night skir- 
mish, when his brother was opposed to him, and was within 



220 SKETCHES OF 

hearing of his groans. His father perished in the long bat- 
tle at the "Point," as it was called, near the mouth of the 
Kenawha. The whole force of the Shawanees was assem- 
bled at that point, and John Ward was then nineteen years 
of age, so that there can be but little doubt of his having 
been present. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 221 



CHAPTER IX. 

Mr. John May, a gentleman of Virginia, had, at an ear- 
ly period, been appointed surveyor of the Kentucky lands, 
and had become so extensively involved in business, as to 
require the aid of a clerk. In 1789, he employed Mr. 
Charles Johnston, a young man scarcely twenty years 
of age, in that capacity. Johnston accompanied his employ- 
er to Kentucky in the summer of '89, and returned to Vir- 
ginia in the autumn of the same year, without any adven- 
ture worthy of notice; and in the month of February, 1790, 
it became necessary for them to return to Kentucky, in or 
der to complete the business which had been left unfinished 
on the former trip. Heretofore, they had travelled by land, 
but on the present occasion, May determined to descend the 
Great Kenawha and Ohio by water. They, accordingly, 
travelled by the usual route to Green Briar court house, 
where the town cf Lewisburgh has since been built, and 
from thence crossed the wilderness which lay between that 
point and the Great Kenawha. After suffering much from 
the weather, which was intensely cold, they at length reach- 
ed Kelly's station upon the Kenawha, from which point 
May proposed to embark Having purchased a boat, such 
as was then used for the navigation of the western waters, 
they embarked in company with Mr. Jacob Skyles, a gen- 
tleman of Virginia, who had at that time a stock o( dry goods 
intended fjr Lexington, and without any accident, in the 
course of a few days, they arrived at Point Pleasant. Here 
there was an accession to their number of three persons, a 
man named Flinn and two sisters of the name of Fleming. 
Flinn was a hardy borderer, accustomed from his 5 outh to 

19* 



222 SKETCHES OF 

all the dangers of the frontiers, and the two Miss Flemings 
were women of low station and doubtful character. They 
were all natives of Pittsburgh and were on their way to 
Kentucky. 

During their short stay at Point Pleasant, they learned 
that roving bands of Indians were constantly hovering upon 
either bank of the Ohio, and were in the habit of decoying 
boats ashore under various pretences, and murdering or ta- 
king captives, all who were on board; so that, upon leaving 
Point Pleasant, they determined that no consideration should 
induce them to approach eitner shore, but steeling their 
hearts against every entreaty, that they would resolutely 
keep the middle of the current, and leave distressed individ- 
uals to shift for themselves. How firmly this resolution was 
maintained the sequel will show. The spring freshet was 
in its height at the time of their embarcation, and their boat 
was wafted rapidly down the stream. There was no occa- 
sion to use the side oars, and it was only necessary for one 
individual at a time to watch throughout the night, at the 
steering oar, in order to keep the boat in the current. So 
long as this could be done, they entertained no dread of any 
number of Indians on either shore, as boarding had hitherto 
formed no part of their plans, and was supposed to be im- 
practicable, so long as arms were on board of the boat. 

On the morning of the 20th of March, when near the junc- 
tion of the Scioto, they were awakened at daylight by Flinn, 
whose turn it was to watch, and informed that danger was 
at hand. All instantly sprung to their feet, and hastened 
upon deck without removing their nightcaps or completing 
their dress. The cause of Flinn's alarm was quickly evi- 
dent. Far down the river a smoke was seen, ascending in 
thick wreaths above the trees, and floating in thinner masses 
over the bed of the river. All instantly perceived that it 
could only proceed from a large fire — and who was there to 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 2%S 

kindle a fire in the wilderness which surrounded them? No 
one doubted that Indians were in front, and the only ques- 
tion to be decided was, upon which shore they lay, for the 
winding of the river, and their distance from the smoke, ren- 
dered it impossible at first to ascertain this point. As the 
boat drifted on, however, it became evident that the fire was 
upon the Ohio shore, and it was instantly determined to put 
over to the opposite side of the river. Before this could be 
done, however, two white men ran down upon the beach, 
and clasping their hands in the most earnest manner, implor- 
ed the crew to take them on board. They declared that 
they had been taken by a party of Indians in Kennedy's bot- 
tom, a few days before- — had been conducted across the Ohio, 
and had just effected their escape. They added, that the 
enemy was in close pursuit of them, and that their death 
was certain, unless admitted on board. Resolute in their 
purpose, on no account to leave the middle of the stream, and 
strongly suspecting the suppliants of treachery, the party 
paid no attention to their entreaties, but steadily pursued 
their course down the river, and were soon considerably a- 
lead of them. The two white men ran down the bank, in 
a line parallel with the course of the boat, and their entrea- 
ties were changed into the most piercing cries and lamenta- 
tions upon perceiving the obstinacy with which their request 
was disregarded. Instantly the obduracy of the crew be- 
gan to relax, Flinn and the two females, accustomed from 
their youth to undervalue danger from the Indians, earnest- 
ly insisted upon going ashore, and relieving the white men, 
and even the incredulity of May began to yield to the per- 
severing importunity of the suppliants. A parley took 
place. May called to them from the deck of the boat where 
he stood in his nightcap and drawers, and demanded the cause 
of the large fire the smoke of which had caused so much a - 
iarm. The white men positively denied that there was any 



224 SKETCHES OF 

fire near them. This falsehood was so palpable, that May V 
former suspicions returned with additional force, and he pos- 
itive!} insisted upon continuing their course without paying 
the slightest attention to the request of the men. This reso- 
olution was firmly seconded by Johnston and Skyles, and as 
vehemently opposed by Fiinn and the Miss Flemings, for, 
contrary to all established rules of policy, the females were 
allowed an equal vote with the males on board of the boat. 
Fiinn urged that the men gave every evidence of real dis- 
tress which could be required, and recounted too many par- 
ticular circumstances attending their capture and escape, to 
give color to the suspicion that their story was invented for 
the occasion, and added, that it would be a burning shame 
to them and their's forever, if they should permit two coun- 
trymen to fall a sacrifice to the savages, when so slight a risk 
on their part would suffice to relieve them. He acknowl- 
edged that they had lied in relation to the fire, but declared 
himself satisfied that it was only because they were fearful 
of acknowledging the truth, lest the crew should suspect 
that Indians were concealed in the vicinity. The contro 
versy became warm, and during its progress, the boat drift- 
ed so far below the men, that they appeared to relinquish 
their pursuit in despair. 

At this time, Fiinn made a second proposal, which, ac- 
cording to his method of reasoning, could be carried into ef- 
fect, without the slightest risk to any one but himself. They 
were now more than a mile below the pursuers. He pro- 
posed that May should only touch the hostile shore long 
enough to permit him to jump out. That it was impossible 
for Indians, (even admitting that they were at hand,) to ar- 
rive in time to arrest the boat, and even should any appear, 
they could immediately put off from shore and abandon him 
to his fate. That he was confident of being able to outrun 
the red devils, if they saw him first, and was equally confi- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 225 

dent of being able to see them as soon as they could see 
him. May remonstrated upon so unnecessary an exposure 
— but Flinn was inflexible, and in an evil hour, the boat was 
directed to the shore. They quickly discovered, what ought 
to have been known before, that they could not float as swift- 
ly after leaving the current as while borne along by it, and 
they were nearly double the time in making the shore, that 
they had calculated upon. When within reach Flinn leaped 
fearlessly upon the hostile bank, and the boat grated upon 
the sand. At that moment, five or six savages ran up out of 
breath, from the adjoining wood, and instantly seizing Flinn,. 
began to fire upon the boat's crew. Johnston and Skyles 
sprung to their arms, in order to return the fire, while May ? 
seizing an oar attempted to regain the current. Fresh Indi- 
ans arrived, however, in such rapid succession, that the beach 
was quickly crowded by them, and May called out to hi& 
companions to cease firing and come to the oars. This was 
instantly done, but it was too late. 

The river, as we have already observed, was very high, 
and their clumsy and unwieldy boat, had become entangled 
in the boughs of the trees which hung over the water, so 
that after the most desperate efforts to get her off, they were 
compelled to relinquish the attempt in despair. During the 
whole of this time the Indians were pouring a heavy fire 
into the boat, at a distance not exceeding ten paces. Their 
horses, of which they had a great number on board, had 
broken their halters, and mad with terror were plunging so 
furiously as to expose them to a danger scarcely less dread- 
ful than that which menaced them from shore. In addition 
to this, none of them had ever beheld a hostile Indian be- 
fore, (with the exception of May,) and the furious gestures 
and appalling yells of the enemy, struck a terror to their 
hearts which had almost deprived them of their faculties. 
Seeing it impossible to extricate themselves, they all lay 



226 SKETCHES OF 

down upon their faces, in such parts of the boat, as would 
best protect them from the horses, and awaited in pas- 
sive helplessnes, the approach of the conquerors. The en- 
emy, however, still declined boarding, and contented them- 
selves with pouring in an incessant fire, by which all the 
horses were killed, and which at length began to grow fatal 
to the crew. One of the females received a ball in her 
mouth which had passed immediately over Johnston's head, 
and almost instantly expired. Skyles, immediately after- 
wards, was severely wounded in both shoulders, the ball stri- 
king the right shoulder blade, and ranging transversely a- 
long his back. The fire seemed to grow hotter every mo- 
ment, when, at length May arose and waved his nightcap a 
bove his head as a signal of surrender. He instantly re- 
ceived a ball in the middle of the forehead and fell perfectly 
dead by the side of Johnston, covering him with his blood. 

Now, at last, the enemy ventured to board. Throwing 
themselves into the water, with their tomahawks in their 
hands, a dozen or twenty swam to the boat, and began to 
climb the sides. Johnston stood ready to do the honors of 
the boat, and presenting his hand to each Indian in succes- 
sion, he helped them over the side to the number of twenty. 
Nothing could appear more cordial than the meeting. Each 
Indian shook him by the hand, with the usual salutation of 
"How de do," in passable English, while Johnston encoun- 
tered every visiter with an affectionate squeeze, and a forced 
smile, in which terror struggled with civility. The Indians 
then passed on to Skyles and the surviving Miss Fleming, 
where the demonstrations of mutual joy were not quite so 
lively. Skyles was writhing under a painful wound, and the 
girl was sitting by the dead body of her sister. Having sha- 
ken hands with all of their captives, the Indians proceeded 
to scalp the dead, which was done with great coolness, and 
the reeking scalps were stretched and prepared upon hoops 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 227 

for the usual process of drying, immediately before the eyes 
of the survivors. The boat was then drawn ashore, and its 
contents examined with great greediness. Poor Skyles, in 
addition to the pain of his wounds, was compelled to wit- 
ness the total destruction of his property, by the hands of 
these greedy spoilers, who tossed his silks, cambric, and 
broadcloth into the dirt, with the most reckless indifference. 
At length they stumbled upon a keg of whiskey. The prize 
was eagerly seized, and every thing else abandoned. The 
Indian who had found it, instantly carried it ashore and was 
followed by the rest with tumultuous delight. A large fire 
nearly fifty feet long was quickly kindled, and victors and 
vanquished indiscriminately huddled around it. As yet no 
attempt had been made to strip the prisoners, but unfortu- 
nately, Johnston was handsomely dressed in a broadcloth 
surtout, red vest, fine ruffled shirt and a new pair of boots. 
The Indians began to eye him attentively, and at length one 
of them, whose name he afterwards learned was Chick-a- 
tommo, a Shawanee chief, came up to him, and gave the 
skirt of his coat two or three hard pulls, accompanied by 
several gestures which were not to be mistaken. Johnston 
instantly stripped oft his coat, and very politely handed it to 
him. His red w\iistccat was now exposed to full vievr and 
attracted great attention. Chiok-a-tommo instantly exclaim- 
ed, ;i Hugh! you big Cappatain!' , Johnston hastily assured 
him that he was mistaken, that he was no officer — nor had 
any connection with military affairs whatever. The Indian 
then drew himself up, pointed with his ringer to his breast, 
and exclaimed, "Me Cappatain! all dese," pointing to his 
men, u my sogers !" The red waistcoat accompanied the 
surtout, and Johnston quickly stood shivering in his shirt and 
pantaloons. An old Indian then came up to him, and pla- 
cing one hand upon his own shirt (a greasy, filthy garment, 
which had not, probably, been washed for six months,) and 



228 SKETCHES OF 

the other upon Johnston's ruffles, cried out in English, "Swap ! 
Swap!" at the same time, giving the ruffles a gentle pull with 
his dirty fingers. Johnston, conquering his disgust at the pro- 
posal, was about to comply, and had drawn his shirt over 
his head, when it was violently pulled back by another In- 
dian, whose name he afterwards learned, was Tom Lewis. 
His new ally then reproached the other Indian severely for 
wishing to take the shirt from a prisoner's back in such cold 
weather, and instantly afterwards threw his own blanket 
over Johnston's shoulders. The action was accompanied by 
a look so full of compassion and kindness, that Johnston, 
who had expected far different treatment, was perfectly as- 
tonished. He now saw that native kindness of heart and 
generosity of feeling, was by no means rare even among 
savages. 

The two white men who had decoyed them ashore, and 
whose names were Divine and Thomas, now appeared, and 
took their seats by the side of the captives. Sensible of the 
reproach to which they had exposed themselves, they has- 
tened to offer an excuse for their conduct. They declared 
that they really had been taken in Kennedy's bottom a few 
days before, and that the Indians had compelled them, by 
threats of instant death in case of refusal, to act as they had 
done. They concluded by some common place expressions 
of regret for the calamity which they had occasioned, and 
declared that their own misery was aggravated at beholding 
that of their countrymen ! In short, words were cheap with 
them, and they showered them out in profusion. But John- 
ston and Skyles' sufferings had been and still were too se- 
vere, to permit their resentment to be appeased by such 
light atonement. Their suspicions of the existence of wil- 
ful and malignant treachery on the part of the white men, 
(at least one of them,) were confirmed by the report of a 
negro, who quickly made his appearance, and who, as it ap- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 229 

peared, had been taken in Kentucky a few days before. He 
declared that Thomas had been extremely averse to having 
any share in the treachery, but had been overruled by Di- 
vine, who alone had planned, and was most active in the ex- 
ecution of the project, having received a promise from the 
Indians, that, in case of success, his own liberty should be 
restored to him. This report has been amply confirmed by 
subsequent testimony. Mr. Thomas is now living near 
Maysville, and has always sustained an excellent reputa- 
tion. 

In a few minutes, six squaws, most of them very old, to- 
gether with two white children, a girl and a boy, came down 
to the fire, and seated themselves . The children had late- 
ly been taken from Kentucky. Skyles' wound now became 
excessively painful, and Flinn, who, in the course of his ad- 
venturous life, had picked up some knowledge of surgery, 
was permitted to examine it. He soon found it necessary 
to make an incision, which was done very neatly with a 
razor. An old squaw then washed the wound, and having 
caught the bloody w T ater in a tin cup, presented it to Skyles, 
and requested him to drink it, assuring him that it would 
greatly accelerate the cure. He thought it most prudent to 
comply. 

During the whole of this time, the Indians remained si- 
lently smoking or lounging around the fire. No sentinels 
were posted in order to prevent a surprize, but each man's 
gun stood immediately behind him, with the breech resting 
upon the ground, and the barrel supported against a small 
pole, placed horizontally upon two forks. Upon the slight- 
est alarm, every man could have laid his hand upon his own 
gun. Their captors were gomposed of small detachments 
from several tribes. Much the greater portion belonged to 
the Shawanees, but there were several Delawares, Wyan- 
dotts, and a few wandering Cherokees. After smoking, 

20 



230 SKETCHES OF 

they proceeded to the division of their prisoners. Flinn 
was given to a Shawanee warrior — Skyles to an old crab- 
bed, ferocious Indian of the same tribe, whose temper was 
sufficiently expressed in his countenance, while Johnston 
was assigned to a young Shawanee chief, whom he repre- 
sents as possessed of a disposition which would have done 
him honor in any age or in any nation. His name was 
Messhawa, and he had just reached the age of manhood. 
His person was tall and expressive rather of action than 
strength, his air was noble, and his countenance mild, open, 
and peculiarly prepossessing. He evidently possessed great 
influence among those of his own tribe, which, as the se- 
quel will show, he exerted with great activity on the side of 
humanity. The surviving Miss Fleming was given to the 
Cherokees, while the Wyandottsand the Delawares were al- 
lowed no share in the distribution. No dissatisfaction, how- 
ever, was expressed. The division had been proclaimed by 
an old chief in a loud voice, and a brief guttural monosyl- 
lable announced their concurrence. After the distribution 
of their captives, Flinn, Divine and Thomas, were ordered 
to prepare four additional oars, for the boat which they had 
taken, as they had determined to man it, and assail such oth- 
er boats as should be encountered during their stay on the 
Ohio. These and several other preparations occupied the 
rest of the day. 

On the next morning, the Indians arose early and prepar- 
ed for an encounter, expecting, as usual, that boats would 
be passing. They dressed their scalp tufts, and painted 
their faces in the most approved manner, before a pocket 
glass which each carried with him, grimmacing and frown- 
ing in order to drill their features to the expression of the 
most terrific passions. About tdn o'clock, a canoe, contain- 
ing six men, was seen, slowly and laboriously ascending the 
river upon the Kentucky shore All the prisoners serein- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 231 

stantly ordered to descend the bank to the water's edge and 
decoy the canoe within reach of the Indian guns. Johnston, 
with whatever reluctance, was compelled to accompany the 
rest. Divine on this, as on the former occasion, was pecu- 
liarly active and ingenious in stratagems. He invented a 
lamentable story of their canoe having been overset and of 
their starving condition, destitute as they were of either 
guns or axes. It was with agony that Johnston beheld the 
canoes put off from the Kentucky shore, and move rapidly 
towards them, struggling with the powerful current, which 
bore them so far below them that they could not distinguish 
the repeated signs which Johnston made, warning them to 
keep off. The Indians perceiving how far the canoe was 
driven below them, ran rapidly down the river, under cover 
of the woods, and concealed themselves among the willows, 
which grew in thick clusters upon the bank. The unsus- 
pecting canoemen soon drew near, and when within six- 
ty yards, received a heavy fire which killed every man on 
board. Some fell into the river, and overset the canoe, which 
drifted rapidly down the current, as did the bodies of the 
slain. The Indians sprung into the water, and dragging them 
ashore, tomahawked two of them, who gave some signs of 
life, and scalped the whole. 

Scarcely had this been done, when a more splendid booty 
appeared in view. It happened that Captain Thomas Mar- 
shall, of the Virginia artillery, in company with several oth- 
er gentlemen, was descending the Ohio, having embarked on- 
ly one day later than May. They had three boats weakly 
manned, but heavily laden with horses and dry goods, inten- 
ded for Lexington. About twelve o'clock on the second 
day of Johnston's captivity, the little flotilla appeared about 
a mile above the point where the Indians stood. Instantly 
all was bustle and activity. The additional oars were fix- 
ed to the boat, the savages instantly sprung on board, and 



232 SKETCHES OF 

the prisoners were compelled to station themselves at the 
oars, and were threatened with instant death unless they us- 
ed their utmost exertions to bring them along side of the en- 
emy. The three boats came down very rapidly and were 
soom immediately opposite their enemy's. The Indians 
opened a heavy fire upon them, and stimulated their rowers 
to their utmost efforts. The boats became quickly aware 
of their danger, and a warm contest of skill and strength 
took place. There was an interval of one hundred yards 
between each of the three boats in view. The hindmost 
was for a time in great danger. Having but one pair of 
oars, and being weakly manned, she was unable to compete 
with the Indian boat, which greatly outnumbered her both 
in oars and men. The Indians quickly came within rifle 
shot, and swept the deck with an incessant fire, which ren- 
dered it extremely dangerous for any of the crew to show 
themselves. Captain Marshall was on board of the hindmost 
boat, and maintained his position at the steering oar in defi- 
ance of the shower of balls which flew around him. He 
stood in his shirt sleeves with a red silk handkerchief bound 
around his head, which afforded a fair mark to the enemy, 
and steered the boat with equal steadiness and skill, while 
the crew below relieved each othor at the oars. The ene- 
my lost ground from two circumstances. In their eagerness 
to overtake the whites, they left the current, and attempted to 
cut across the river from point to point, in order to shorten 
the distance. In doing so, however, they lost the force of 
the current, and quickly found themselves dropping astern. 
In addition to this, the whites conducted themselves with 
equal coolness and dexterity. The second boat waited for 
the hindmost, and received her crew on board, abandoning 
the goods and horses, without scruple, to the enemy. Being 
now more strongly manned, she shot rapidly ahead, and 
quickly overtook the fprernost boat, which, in like manner, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 233 

received her crew on board, abandoning the cargo as before, 
and having six pair of oars, and being powerfully manned, 
she w r as soon beyond the reach of the enemy's shot. The 
chace lasted more than an hour. For the first half hour, 
the fate of the hindmost boat hung in mournful suspense, 
and Johnston, with agony, looked forward to the probability 
of its capture. The prisoners were compelled to labor hard 
at the oars, but they took care never to pull together, and 
by every means in their power, endeavored to favor the es- 
cape of their friends. 

At length, the Indians abandoned the pursuit and turned 
their whole attention to the boats which had been deserted. 
The booty surpassed their most sanguine expectations. Sev- 
eral fine horses were on board, and flour, sugar, and choco- 
late in profusion. Another keg of whiskey was found and 
excited the same immoderate joy as at first. It was unan- 
imously determined to regale themselves in a regular feast, 
and instant preparations were made to carry their resolution 
into effect. A large kettle of chocolate and sugar, of which 
the sugar formed the greater part, was set upon the fire, 
which an old squaw stirred with a dirty stick. Johnston 
was promoted on the spot to the rank of cook, and received 
orders to bake a number of flour cakes in the fire. A deer 
skin, which had served for a saddle blanket, and was most 
disgustingly stained by having been applied to a horse's sore 
back, was given him as a tray, and being repeatedly odered 
to "make haste," he entered upon his new office with great 
zeal. By mixing a large portion of sugar with some dump- 
Lings, wlrch he boiled in chocolate, he so delighted the pal- 
ates of the Indians, that they were enthusiastic in their prai- 
ses, and announced their intention of keeping him in his 
present capacity as long as he remained with them. The 
two kegs which had been carefully guarded were now pro- 
duced, and the mirth began to border on the "fast and furi- 

20* 



234 gKETCHJtfS OF 

oiis." A select band, as usual, remained sober, in-order to 
maintain order and guard against surprize, but the prisoners 
were invited to get drunk with their red brothers. Johnston 
and Skyles declined the invitation, but Flinn, without wait- 
ing to be asked twice, instantly joined the revellers, and 
quickly became as drunk as any of them. In this situation 
he entered into a hot dispute with an Indian, which, after 
much abuse on both sides, terminated in blows, and his an- 
tagonist received a sad battering. Several of his tribe drew 
their knives, and rushed upon Flinn with fury, but were re- 
strained amid peals of laughter by the others, who declared 
that Flinn had proved himself a man, and should have fair 
play. 

In the mean time, Johnston and Skyles had been bound 
and removed to a convenient distance from the drinking par- 
ty, with the double design of saving their lives, and guard- 
ing against escape. While lying in this manner, and total- 
ly unable to help themselves, they beheld with terror, one of 
the revellers staggering towards them, with a drawn knife in 
his hand, and muttering a profusion of drunken curses. He 
stopped within a few paces of them, and harangued them 
with great vehemence, for nearly a minute, until he had 
worked himself up to a state of insane fury, when suddenly 
uttering a startling yell, he sprung upon the prostrate body of 
Skyles and seizing him by the hair endeavored to scalp him. 
Fortunately he was too much intoxicated to exert his usual 
dexterity, and before he had succeeded in his design, the guard 
ran up at full speed, and seizing him by the shoulders, hurl- 
ed him violently backwards to the distance of several yards. 
The drunken beast] rolled upon the ground, and with difficul- 
ty recovering his feet, staggered off, muttering curses against 
the white man, the guard, himself, and the whole world. 
Skyles had only felt the point of the knife, but had given 
up his scalp for lost, and rubbed the crown of his head seve- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 235 

ral limes with feverish apprehensions, before he could be sat* 
isfied that his scalp was still safe. 

No other incident occurred during the night, and on the 
following morning the Indians separated. Those to whom 
Flinn belonged, remained at the river in expectation of in- 
tercepting other boats, while Johnston's party struck through 
the wilderness, in a steady direction for their towns. Du- 
ring their first day's march, he afforded much amusement o 
his captors. In the boat abandoned by Captain Marshall, 
they had found a milch cow, haltered in the usual manner. 
Upon leaving the river, they committed her to the care of 
Johnston, requiring him to lead her by the halter. Being 
totally unaccustomed to this method of travelling, she prov- 
ed very refractory and perplexed him exceedingly. When 
he took one side of a tree, she regularly chose the other. 
Whenever he attempted to lead her, she planted her feet firm 
ly before her, and refused to move a step. When he strove 
to drive her, she ran off into the bushes, dragging him after 
her, to the no small injury of his person and dress. The 
Indians were in a. roar of laughter throughout the whole 
day, and appeared highly to enjoy his perplexity. At night 
they arrived at a small encampment, where they had left 
their women and children. Here, to his great joy, Johnston 
was relieved of his charge, and saw her slaughtered with 
the utmost gratification. At night, he suffered severely by 
the absence of the benevolent Messhawa, to whose charge, 
as we have already said, he had been committed. The In- 
dians were apprehensive of pursuit, and directed Messha- 
wa, at the head of several warriors, to bring up the rear, 
and give them seasonable warning of any attempt on the 
part of the whites to regain their prisoners. In his absence, 
he had been committed to an Indian of very different char- 
acter. While his new master was engaged in tying his 
hands, as usual, for the night, he ventured to complain that 



236 SKETCHES or 

the cords were drawn too tight, and gave him unnecessary 
pain. The Indian instantly flew into a passion, exclaimed, 
•'Dam you soul !" and drew the cord with all the violence of 
which he was capable, until it was completely buried in the 
flesh. Johnston, in consequence, did not sleep for a moment, 
but passed the whole night in exquisite torture. In the morning 
Messhawa came up, and finding his prisoner in a high fever, 
and his hands excessively swollen, instantly cut the cords, 
and exchanged some high words with the other Indian upon 
the subject. 

The march was quickly recommenced, and Johnston could 
not avoid congratulating himself every moment, upon his 
good fortune in having Messhawa for his guide. Skyles' 
master seemed to take pleasure in tormenting him. In ad- 
dition to an enormous quantity of baggage, he compelled 
him to carry his rifle, by which his raw wound was perpet- 
ually irritated and prevented from healing. Messhawa per- 
mitted Johnstoa to share his own mess upon all occasions, 
while the savage to whom Skyles belonged, would scarcely 
permit him to eat a dozen mouthfuls a day, and never with- 
out embittering his meat with curses and blows. In a few 
days they arrived at the Scioto river, which, from the recent 
rains, was too high to admit of being forded. The Indians 
were instantly employed in constructing a raft, and it was 
necessary to carry one very large log, several hundred yards. 
Two Indians with a handspike supported the lighter end, 
while the butt was very charitably bestowed upon John- 
ston alone. Not daring to murmur, he exerted his utmost 
strength, and aided by several Indians, with some difficulty, 
succeeded in placing the enormous burden upon his shoulder. 
He quickly found, however, that the weight was beyond his 
strength, and wishing to give his two companions in front 
warning of his inability to support it, he called to them in 
English to "take care !" They did not understand him, how- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 237 

ever, and continued to support it, when rinding himself in 
danger of being crushed to death, he dropped the log so sud- 
denly that both Indians were knocked down, and lay for a 
time without sense or motion. They quickly sprung up, 
however, and drawing their tomahawks, would instantly 
have relieved Johnston of all his troubles, had not the other 
Indians, amid peals of laughter, restrained them, and com- 
pelled them to vent their spleen in curses, which were show- 
ered upon "Ketepels," as he was called, for the space of an 
hour, with great fury. 

After crossing the Scioto, the Indians displayed a disposi- 
tion to loiter and throw away time, but little in unison with 
Johnston's feelings, who was anxious to reachjtheir towns as 
speedily as possible, flattering himself with the hope that 
some benevolent trader would purchase him of the Indians 
and restore him to liberty. They amused themselves at a 
game called "Nosey," with a pack of cards which had been 
found in one of the abandoned boats The pack is equally 
divided between two of them, and by some process which 
Johnston did not understand, each endeavored to get all the 
cards into his own possession. The winner had a right to 
ten fillups at his adversary's nose, which the latter was re- 
quired to sustain with inflexible gravity, as the winner was 
entitled to ten additional fillups for every smile which he suc- 
ceeded in forcing from him. At this game they would be 
engaged for a whole day, with the keenest interest, the by- 
standers looking on with a delight scarcely inferior to that 
of the gamblers themselves, and laughing immoderately 
when the penalty was exacted. 

When gaming, they were unusually kind to their prison- 
ers, but this ray of sunshine was frequently very suddenly 
overcast Johnston ventured to ask an old Shawanee chief, 
how far they would be forced to travel, before reaching his 
village, The old man very good naturedly assured him, 



288 SKETCHES OF 

by drawing a diagram upon the sand with a stick, pointing 
out the situation of the Ohio river, of the Scioto, and of the 
various Indian villages, and pointing to the sun, he waved 
his hand once for every day, which they would employ in 
the journey. Johnston then ventured to ask "how many in- 
habitants his village contained ?" The old man replied, that 
the Shawanees had once been a great nation^ but (and here 
his eyes flashed fire, and he worked himself into a furious 
passion,) the long knives had killed nearly the whole of his 
nation. ."However," continued he, "so long as there is a 
Shawanee alive, we will fight! fight! fight! When no 
Shawanee — then no fight." 

The prisoners were also in great danger whenever the 
Indians passed through a forest which had been surveyed, 
and where the marks of the axe upon the tress w r ere evident. 
They would halt upon coining to such a tree, and after a 
few minutes silence, would utter the most terrible yells, stri- 
king the trees with their hatchets, and cursing the prisoners 
with a fierceness which caused them often to abandon all 
hopes of life. On one occasion, they passed suddenly from 
the most ferocious state of excitement, to the opposite extreme 
of merriment at a slight disaster which befel Johnston. They 
were often compelled to ford creeks, but upon one occasion, 
they attempted to pass upon a log. The morning was bit- 
terly cold and frosty, and the log having been barked, was 
consequently very slippery. In passing upon this bridge, 
Johnston's foot slipped, and he fell into the cold water, with 
an outcry so sudden and shrill that the whole party, 
which the instant before had been inflamed with rage, burst 
at once into loud laughter, which, at intervals, was maintain- 
ed for several miles. Sometimes they amused themselves 
by compelling their prisoners to dance, causing them to pro- 
nounce in a tone bordering on music, the words "Kom-ne- 
kah! He-kah-kah! Was-sat-oo — Hos-ses-kah !" and this mo- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 239 

notorious and fatiguing exercise, was occasionally relieved 
by the more exciting one, of springing over a large fire, 
when the blaze was at its highest, in which they could only 
escape injury by great activity. 

Their painful journey had now lasted nearly a month, and 
the Indian towns were yet at a great distance. Hitherto, 
Skyles and Johnston had remained together, but by the 
whimsical fancy of their captors, they were now separated. 
Skyles was borne off to the Miami towns, while Johnston 
was destined for Sandusky. A few days after this separa- 
tion, Johnston's party fell in with a Wyandott and a negro 
man, who, having run away from Kentucky, had been ta- 
ken up by the Wyandott, and retained as an assistant in a 
very lucrative trade, which he was at that time carrying on 
with the Indians of the interior. He was in the habit of pur- 
chasing whiskey, powder, blankets, &c, at Detroit, general- 
ly upon credit, packing them upon horses into the interior, 
and exchanging them at a profit of nearly one thousand 
per cent, for furs and hides. This casual rencounter in the 
wilderness, was followed by great demonstrations of joy 
on both sides. The trader produced his rum, the Shawa- 
neese their merchandize, and a very brisk exchange ensued. 
Johnston's boots, for which he had paid eight dollars in Va., 
were gladly given for a pint of rum,and other articles were sold 
at a proportionate price. Johnston, as before, was removed 
from the immediate neighborhood of the revellers, and com- 
mitted to the care of two sober Indians, with strict injunc- 
tions to prevent his escape. They, accordingly, bound him 
securely, and passing the ends of the cord under their own 
bodies, lay down to sleep, one upon each side of their pris- 
oner. At midnight, Johnston was awakened by a heavy 
rain, although his guards slept on with most enviable com- 
posure. Unable to extricate himself, and fearful of awa- 
kening them, he was endeavoring to submit with patience, 



£40 SKETCHES OF 

when the negro appeared and very courteously invited him 
to take shelter in his tent, which stood within fifty yards of 
the spot where he lay. Johnston was beginning to explain 
to his black friend the impossibility of moving without the 
consent of his guards, when they suddenly sprung to their 
feet, and seizing the negro by the throat, and at the same 
time grasping Johnston's collar, they uttered the alarm hal- 
loo in the most piercing tones. The whole band of drunk- 
en Indians instantly repeated the cry, and ran up, tomahawk 
in hand, and with the most ferocious gestures. Johnston 
gave himself up for lost, and the negro looked white with 
terror, but their enemies conducted themselves with more 
discretion, than, from their drunken condition, could have 
been anticipated. They seized Johnston, bore him off a few 
paces into the woods, and questioned him closely as to the 
conference between himself and the negro. He replied by 
simply and clearly stating the truth. They then grappled 
the negro, and menacing him with their knives, threatened 
to take his scalp on the spot, if he did not tell the truth. His 
story agreed exactly with Johnston's, and the Indians be- 
came satisfied that no plot had been concerted. The inci- 
dent, however, had completely sobered them, and for sever- 
al hours the rum cask gave way to the dancing ring, which 
was formed in front of the negro's tent, where Johnston had 
been permitted, after the alarm subsided, to take shelter 
from the rain. He quickly fell asleep, but was grievously 
tormented by the nightmare. He dreamed that he was drow- 
ning in the middle of the creek which he had crossed on that 
morning, and his respiration became so laborious and pain- 
ful, that he at length awoke. The song and the dance were 
still going on around him, and the cause of his unpleasant 
dream was quickly manifest. A huge Indian had very com- 
posedly seated himself upon his breast, and was smoking a 
long pipe, and contemplating the dancers, apparently very 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 241 

well satisfied with his seat. Johnston turned himself upon 
his side and threw the Indian off. He did not appear to rel- 
ish the change of place much, but soon settled himself and 
continued to smoke with uninterrupted gravity. 

At daylight, a new scene presented itself. The warriors 
painted themselves in the most frightful colors, and perform- 
ed a war dance, with the usual accompaniments. A stake, 
painted in alternate stripes of black and vermillion, was fix- 
ed in the ground, and the dancers moved in rapid but meas- 
ured evolutions around it. They recounted, with great en- 
ergy, the wrongs which they had received from the whites. 
Their lands had been taken from them — their corn cut up — 
their villages burnt — their friends slaughtered — every inju- 
ry which they had received was dwelt upon, until their pas- 
sions had become inflamed beyond all control. Suddenly, 
Chickatommo darted from the circle of dancers, and with 
eyes flashing fire, ran up to the spot where Johnston was sit- 
ting, calmly contemplating the spectacle before him. When 
within reach he struck him a furious blow with his fist, and 
was preparing to repeat it, when Johnston seized him by the 
arms, and hastily demanded the cause of such unprovoked 
violence. Chickatommo, grinding his teeth with rage, shou- 
ted "Sit down! sit down!" Johnston obeyed, and the Indi- 
an, perceiving the two white children within ten steps of 
him, snatched up a tomahawk, and advanced upon them with 
a quick step, and a determined look. The terrified little 
creatures instantly arose from the log on which they were 
sitting, and fled into the woods, uttering the most piercing 
screams, while their pursuer rapidly gained upon them with 
his tomahawk uplifted. The girl, being the youngest, was 
soon overtaken, and would instantly have been tomahawked, 
had not Messhawa bounded like a deer to her relief. He 
arrived barely in time to arrest the uplifted tomahawk of 
Chickatommo, after which, he seized him by the collar and 

21 



242 SKETCHES OF 

hurled him violently backward, to the distance of several 
paces. Snatching up the child in his arms 5 he then ran af- 
ter the brother, intending to secure him likewise from the 
fury of his companion, but the boy, misconstruing his in- 
tention, continued his flight with such rapidity, and doubled 
several times with such address, that the chace was prolong- 
ed to the distance of several hundred yards. At length 
Messhawa succeeded in taking him. The boy, thinking 
himself lost, uttered a wild cry, which was echoed by his sis- 
ter, but both were instantly calmed. Messhawa took them 
in his arms, spoke to them kindly, and soon convinced them 
that they had nothing to, fear from him. He quickly reap- 
peared, leading them gently by the hand, and soothing them 
in the Indian language, until they both clung to him closely 
for protection. No other incident disturbed the progress of 
the ceremonies, nor did Chickatommo appear to resent the 
violent interference of Messhawa. 

Their rum had not yet become exhausted, and after the 
conclusion of the war dance, they returned to it with renew- 
ed vigor. A lame Mingo, on a solitary hunting excursion 
soon joined them, and with drunken hospitality, was pressed, 
and in some degree compelled to get drunk with them. They 
soon became very affectionate, and the Mingo, taking ad- 
vantage of the momentary generosity produced by the rum, 
ventured to ask that Johnston might be given to him, for a 
particular purpose, which he explained to them. He said 
that he had lately killed a warrior of the Wyandott tribe, 
whose widow had clamorously demanded that he (the Min- 
go) should either procure her another husband, or lay down 
his own life, as a penalty for the slain Wyandott. He ad- 
ded that he was too poor to procure her another husband, 
unless he should take that honorable office upon himself, for 
which he had but small inclination, the squaw in question 
being well stricken in years, tolerably crooked, and withal a 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 243 

most terrible scold, and that he must submit to the other al- 
ternative, and lay down his life, unless the Shawanees would 
have compassion upon him, and give him Johnston, who (he 
said) being young and handsome, would doubtless be accept- 
able to the squaw aforesaid, and console her faithful heart 
for the loss of her former husband. Pie urged his suit with 
so much earnestness, that the Shawanees relented, and as- 
sured him that Johnston should instantly be delivered into 
his hands. This was accordingly done, without the slight- 
est regard to the prisoner's inclination, and within an hour, 
the whole party took leave of him, shaking him heartily by 
the hand, and congratulating him upon his approaching hap- 
piness, telling him that there was a fine squaw waiting for 
him in the Wyandott town. Johnston would have liked the 
adoption better without the appendage of the bride, but 
thinking that if she were one of the furies, her society 
would be preferable to the stake and hot irons, he determin- 
ed to make the best of his condition, and wear his shackles 
as easily as possible, until an opportunity offered of effect- 
ing his escape. His new master, after lingering around 
the late encampment until late in the day, at length shoulder- 
ed his wallet, and moved off by the same route which the 
Shawanees had taken. By noon, on the following day, they 
came up with them, when a curious scene ensued. As soon 
as the Shawanees had become sober, they repented their 
late liberality, and determined to reclaim their prisoner; the 
Mingo stoutly demurred, and a long argument took place, 
accompanied by animated gestures, and not a few oaths on 
both sides. At length Messhawa put an end to the wrang- 
ling by seizing a horse by the halter, and ordering Johnston 
instantly to mount. He then sprung upon another, and ap- 
plying the lash smartly to both horses, he quickly bore the 
prisoner be} ond the sound of the Mingo's voice. An hour's 
ride brought them to Upper Sandusky, where Messhawa dis- 



244 SKETCHES OF 

mounted , and awaited the arrival of Chickatommo. He 
quickly appeared accompanied by his party and followed by 
the discontented Mingo. The latter regarded Johnston from 
time to time with so earnest a countenance, and appeared so 
desirous of approaching him, that the latter became alarm- 
ed, lest in the rage of disappointment, he should inflict upon 
the prisoner, the vengeance which he dared not indulge a- 
gainst the Shawanees. But his fears were quickly relieved. 
The Mingo dogged him so faithfully, that he at length came 
upon him while alone, and approaching him with a good 
natured smile, presented a small pamphlet which Johnston 
had dropped on the preceding day. Having done this, he 
shook him by the hand, and immediately left the village. 

At Sandusky, Johnston became acquainted with Mr. Du- 
chouquet, a French trader, who had for several years resi- 
ded among the Indians, and was extensively engaged in the 
fur trade. To him, he recounted his adventures, and ear- 
nestly solicited his good offices in delivering him from the 
Indians. Duchouquet promptly assured him, that every 
exertion should be used for that purpose, and lost no time in 
redeeming his pledge. That evening he spoke to Chicka- 
tommo, and offered a liberal ransom for the prisoner, but his 
efforts were fruitless. The Shawanee chief did not object to 
the price, but declared that no sum should induce them to 
give him up, until they had first taken him to their towns. 
This answer was quickly reported to Johnston, and filled 
him with despair. But as the Shawanee party, were enga- 
ged in another drinking bout, he entreated Duchouquet, to 
seize the favorable moment, when their hearts were mellow- 
ed by rum, and repeat his offer. The Frenchman complied, 
and was again peremptorily refused. Johnston now desired 
him to enquire of Chickatommo, the name of the town to 
which he was to be taken, and the fate which was in reserve 
for him, upon his arrival there. To the first queston Cfric^ 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 245 

kalommo promptly replied, that the prisoner was to be carried 
to the Miami villages, but to the second he gave no satisfac- 
tory answer, being probably ignorant himself upon the subject. 
The mention ofthe Miami villages, completely extinguished 
every spark of hope, which still existed in Johnston's breast, as 
those towns had heretofore been the grave of every white pris- 
oner who had visited them. He had also heard, that the Indi- 
ans carefully concealed from their victims, the fate which a- 
waited them, either from some instinctive feelings of com- 
passion, or more brobably from policy, in order to prevent 
the desperate efforts to escape, which were usual with pris- 
oners, who were informed of their destiny. Under these 
circumstances, he gloomily abandoned himself to despair, 
and lay down in helpless expectation of his fate. But no 
sooner had he abandoned the case, than fortune, as usual, 
put in her oar, and displayed that capricious but omnipotent 
power, for which she has so long and so deservedly been 
celebrated. The same Wyandott trader, who had encoun- 
tered them in the wilderness^ now again appeared at San- 
dusky, with several horses laden with kegs of rum, and in 
the course of two days, completely stripped them of every 
skin, blanket, and article of merchandize, which had escaped 
his rapacity before. 

On the morning of the third day, Chickatommo and his 
party awake as from a dream, and found themselves poor, 
destitute, ragged and hungry, without the means of supply- 
ing any of their wants. Ashamed to return to their village 
in this condition, after having sent before them so magnifi- 
cent a description of their wealth, they determined to re- 
turn to the Ohio, in hopes of again replenishing their purses 
at the expense of emigrants. They accordingly appeared 
of their own accord before Duchouquet, and declared, that 
as the scalp of their prisoner would be transported more ea- 
sily than his person, they had determined to burn him on 

2 1* 



246r 



SKETCHES OF' 



that evening — but, if he still wished to purchase him, they 
would forego the expected entertainment for his sake, and 
let him have the prisoner upon good terms. Duchouquet 
eagerly accepted the offer, and instantly counted down six 
hundred silver broaches, the ordinary price of a prisoner. 
The Indians lost no time in delivering him into the trader's 
hands, and having taken an affectionate leave of him, they 
instantly sat out for the Ohio. 

Johnston's gratification may easily be conceived, but on 
the following day, his apprehensions returned with renewed 
vigor. To his great surprize, Chickatommo and his party 
again made their appearance at Sandusky, having abandoa- 
ed their contemplated trip to Ohio, and loitered about the 
village for several days, without any visible cause for such 
capricious conduct. Johnston, recollecting their former 
whimsical bargain with the Mingo, was apprehensive 
that the same scene was to be repeated, and resolving 
not to be taken alive, he armed himself, and awaited 
calmly their determination. His suspicions, however, were 
entirely groundless. They passed him several times with- 
out the slightest notice, and at length set off in earnest for 
Detroit, leaving him at full liberty with his friend Duchou- 
quet. 

On the evening of their departure, a Delaware arrived 
from the Miami villages, with the heartrending intelligence, 
that his unfortunate companion, Flinn, had been burned at 
the stake a few days before. The savage declared that he 
himself had been present at the spectacle, had assisted in 
torturing him, and had afterwards eaten a portion of his 
flesh, which he declared "was sweeter than bear's meat." 
The intelligence was fully confirmed on the following day 
by a Canadian trader, who had just left the Miami towns. 
He stated that Flinn had been taken to their villages, and at 
first had entertained strong hopes of being adopted, as his 



WESTERN ADVENTURE* 247 

liold, frank, and fearless character, had made considerable 
impression upon his enemies. But the arrival of some wild 
chiefs from the extreme northern tribes, most of whom were 
cannibals, had completely changed his prospects. A wild 
council was held, in which the most terrible sentiments with 
regard to the whites were uttered. The custom of adopting 
prisoners was indignantly reprobated, as frivolous and absurd, 
and the resolution proclaimed that henceforth no quarter 
should be given to any age, sex or condition. Flinn was ac- 
cordingly seized and fastened to the stake. The trader 
was one of the spectators. Flinn quickly observed him, 
and asked if he was not ashamed to witness the distress of 
a fellow creature in that manner, without making some effort 
to relieve him, upon which he instantly ran to the village 
and brought out several kegs of rum, which he offered as a 
ransom for the prisoner. The Indians, who, by this time, 
were in a terrible rage, rejected the offer with fierceness, 
and split the heads of the kegs with their tomahawks, suf- 
fering the liquor to flow unheeded upon the ground. The 
disappointed trader again returned to the village, and brought 
out six hundred silver broaches. They, in turn, were rejec- 
ted with additional fury, and not without a threat of treat- 
ing him id the same manner,, if he again interfered. T'le 
trader, finding every effort vain, communicated his ill suc- 
cess to Flinn, who heard him with composure, and barely re- 
plied, "Then all 1 have to say is, God have mercy upon my 
soul P The scene of torture then commenced, amid whoops 
and yells, which struck terror to the heart of the trader, but 
which the prisoner bore with the most heroic fortitude. Not 
a groan escaped him. He walked calmly around the stake 
for several hours, until his flesh was roasted, and the fire had 
burned down. An old squaw then approached in order to 
rekindle it, but Flinn, watching his opportunity, gave her so 
furious a kick in the breast, that she fell back totally insen- 



248 



SKETCHES OF 



sible, and for several minutes was unable to take any fur- 
ther share in the ceremony. The warriors then bored his 
ancles, and passing thongs through the sinews, confined them 
closely to the stake, so that he was unable afterwards to of- 
fer the same resistance. His sufferings continued for many 
hours, until they were at length terminated by the toma- 
hawk. 

Within a few days, he also heard of Skyles. After leav 
ing Johnston, this gentleman had been conducted to one of 
the towns on the Miami of the lake, near the scene of Flinn T s 
execution, where, as usual, he was compelled to run the 
gauntlet. The Indian boys were his chief tormentors. One 
of the little urchins displayed particular address and dexter- 
ity in his infernal art. He provided himself with a stout 
switch taken from a thorn tree, upon which one of the lar- 
gest thorns had been permitted to remain. As Skyles pas- 
sed him, he drove the keen instrument up to the head in his 
naked back. The switch was wrested from his grasp, and 
was borne by Skyles, sticking in his back, to the end of his 
painful career. He continued in the hands of the same crab- 
bed master, who had taken such pleasure in tormenting him 
upon the march through the wilderness, but had found means 
to make himself so acceptable to his squaw, that his time 
was rendered more agreeable than he could have anticipa- 
ted. He carried water for her, gathered her wood, and 
soothed her sullen temper by a thousand little artifices, so 
that her husband, who stood in some awe of his helpmate, 
was compelled to abate somewhat of his churlishness. He 
at length reaped the fruit of his civility. The squaw re- 
turned one evening alone to the wigwam, and informed 
Skyles, in confidence, that his death had been determined on,, 
in council, and that the following day had ben appointed for 
his execution. He at first doubted the truth of this start- 
ling intelligence, and retiring to rest as usual, feigned to be 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 249 

asleep, but listened attentively to the conversation of the 
old squaw with her daughter, a young girl of fifteen. His 
doubts were quickly dispelled, His approaching execution 
was the subject of conversation between them, and their lan- 
guage quickly became warm. The old lady insisted upon 
it that he was a good man, and ought to be saved, while the 
girl exulted at the idea of witnessing his agonies, declaring 
repeatedly that the "white people were all devils," and ought 
to be put to death. At length they ceased wrangling, and 
composed themselves to rest. Skyles instantly arose, took 
down his master's rifle, shot bag and corn pouch, and step- 
ping lightly over the bodies of the" family, quickly gained 
the wood, and bent his steps to the bank of the Miami river. 
Without an instant's delay, he plunged into the stream, and 
swam to the opposite side. In so doing, however, he com- 
pletely ruined his rifle, and was compelled to throw it away. 
Retaining the wallet of parched corn,, he directed his steps- 
to the southward, intending, if possible, to strike the settle- 
ments in Kentucky, but so poor a woodsman was he, that af- 
ter a hard march of six hours,, he again stumbled upon the 
Miami, within one hundred yards of the spot where he had 
crossed it before. While anxiously meditating upon the 
best means of avoiding the dangers which surrounded him, 
he heard the tinkle of a bell within a few hundred yards of 
the spot where he stood, and hastily directing his steps to-, 
wards it, he saw a horse grazing quietly upon the rank 
grass of the bottom, Instantly mounting him, he again at- 
tempted to move in a southern direction, but w r as compelled 
by the thickness of the wood, and the quantity of fallen ; 
timber to change his course so frequently that he again be- 
came bewildered, and abandoning his horse, determined to 
prosecute his journey on foot. Daylight found him in a 
deep forest, without a path to direct him, without the means 
<tf. procuring food, and without the slightest knowledge of a.- 



250 SKETCHES OF 

ny of those signs by which an experienced woodsman is en- 
abled lo direct his course through a trackless wilderness with 
such unerring certainty. Fearful of stumbling unawares 
upon some Indian town, he lay concealed all day, and at 
night re-commenced his journey. But fresh perplexities a- 
waited him at every step. He was constantly encountering 
either a small village or a solitary wigwam, from which he 
was frequently chased by the Indian dogs, with such 
loud and furious barking, that he more than once considered 
detection inevitable. In this manner he wandered through 
the woods for several days, until faint with hunger, he deter- 
mined at all risks to enter an Indian village, and either pro- 
cure food or perish in the attempt. Having adopted this 
resolution, he no longer loitered on the way, but throwing 
himself boldly upon the first path which presented itself, he 
followed it at a brisk and steady pace, careless of where it 
might lead. About four o'clock in the afternoon, he came 
so suddenly upon a village that it was impossible to retreat 
without exposing himself to detection, and as he considered 
it madness to enter it in daylight, he concealed himself among 
some old logs until nightfall, when he sallied out like an owl 
or a wolf in search of something to allay the piercing pangs 
of hunger. Nothing could be picked up upon the skirts of 
the village, as neither roasting ears nor garden fruit were in 
season, and it became necessary to enter the town or perish 
of hunger. Fortunately, the embers of a decayed fire lay 
near him, in which he found a sufficient quantity of coal with 
which to black his face and hands, and having completely 
disguised himself in this manner, he boldly marched into the 
hostile town, to take such fate as it should please heaven to 
send. He fortunately had with him the remnant of a blan- 
ket, which he disposed about his person in the usual Indian 
manner, and imitating at the same time their straggling gate,, 
he kept the middle of the street and passed unquestioned by 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 251 

squaw or warrior. Fortunately for him, the streets were 
almost entirely deserted, and as he afterwards learned, most 
of the warriors were absent. Security, however, was not 
his present object so much as food, which indeed had now be- 
come indispensable. Yet how was he to obtain it. He 
would not have hesitated to steal, had he known where to 
look for the larders, nor to beg, had he not known that he 
would have been greeted with the tomahawk. While slowly 
marching through the village and ruminating upon some 
feasible plan of satisfying his wants, he saw light in a wig- 
wam at some distance, which gave it the appearance of a 
trader's booth. Cautiously approaching, he satisfied him- 
self of the truth of his conjecture. A white man was be- 
hind a counter, dealing out various articles to several squaws 
who stood around him. After some hesitation, Skyles en- 
tered the shop, and in bad English asked for rum. The tra- 
der regarded him carelessly, and without appearing surpris- 
ed at either his dress or manner, replied that he had no 
rum in the house, but would go and bring him some, if he 
could wait a few moments. So saying, he leaped carelessly 
over the counter and left the shop. Skyles instantly follow- 
ed him, and stopping him in the street, briefly recounted his 
story, and throwing himself upon his mercy, earnestly im- 
plored his assistance. The trader appeared much astonish- 
ed, and visibly hesitated. Quickly recovering himself, how- 
ever, he assured Skyles that he would use every effort to 
save him, although in doing so, he himself would incur 
great risk. He then informed him that a band of Shawa- 
nees had appeared at the village on that very morning in 
keen pursuit of a prisoner, who (they said,) had escaped a 
few days before, and whom they supposed to be still in the 
neighborhood, from the zigzag manner in which he had trav- 
eled. Many of the warriors of the town were at that mo- 
ment assisting the Shawanees in hunting for him. He 



252 SKETCHES OP 

added, that they might be expected to return in the morning, 
in which case, if discovered, his death would be certain. 
Skyles listened in great alarm to his account of the danger 
which surrounded him. If he left the village, he could 
scarcely expect to escape the numerous bands who were ran- 
ging the forests in search of him ! — If he remained where 
he was, the danger was still more imminent. Under these 
circumstances, he earnestly requested the advice of the tra- 
der as to the best means of avoiding his enemies. The man 
replied that, he must instantly leave the village, as keen 
eyes would be upon him in the morning, and his design 
would instantly be penetrated. That he must conceal him- 
self in a hazel thicket, which he pointed out to him, where 
in a short time he would join him with food, where they 
could arrange some feasible plan of escape. They then 
separated, the trader returning to his shop and Skyles repair- 
ing to the friendly thicket. Here within a few minutes he 
was joined by his friend, who informed him that he saw but 
one possible mode of escape. That it would be impossible 
for him either to remain where he was, or to attempt to 
reach the white settlements through the woods, but he de- 
clared that if he was diligent and active, he might overtake 
a boat, which had left them that morning for Lake Erie, and 
offered him his own skiff for that purpose. He added that 
the boat was laden with furs and was commanded by an 
English captain, who would gladly receive him on board. 
Skyles eagerly embraced the offer, and they proceeded with- 
out a moment's delay to the river shore, where a handsome 
skiff with two oars lay in readiness for the water. Having 
taken an affectionate leave of the trader, Skyles put off from 
shore, and quickly gaining the current, rowed until daylight 
with the zeal of a man who knew the value of life and liber- 
ty. His greatest apprehension was, that his flight would be 
discovered in time to prevent his reaching the boat, and at 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. $53 

every rustling of the bushes on the bank of the river, or at 
every cry of the owl which arose from the deep forest around 
him, the blood would rush back to his heart, and he would 
fancy that his enemies were upon him. At length, between 
dawn and sunrise, he beheld the boat, which he had pursu- 
ed so eagerly, only a few hundred yards in front, drifting 
slowly and calmly down the stream. He redoubled his ex- 
ertions, and in half an hour, was within hailing distance- 
He called aloud for them to halt, but no answer was return- 
ed. Upon coming along side, he was unable to see a sin- 
gle man on board. Supposing her crew asleep, he mounted 
the side of the vessel, and saw the man at the helm enjoy- 
ing a very comfortable nap, with the most enviable disre- 
gard to the dangers which might await him in the waters of 
Lake Erie, which were then in sight. The helmsman star- 
ted up, rubbed his eyes, looked around him, and after salu- 
ting his visiter, observed that "he had almost fallen asleep." 
Skyles agreed with him, and anxiously enquired for the 
captain. The latter soon made his appearance in a wool- 
len nightcap, and the negotiation commenced. The captain 
asked who he was, and what was the cause of so early a 
visit? Skyles was fearful of committing himself by a pre- 
mature disclosure of his real character, and replied that, he 
was an adventurer who had been looking out for land upon 
the Auglaize, but that he had been driven from the country 
by the apprehension of outrage from the Indians, who had 
lately become unusually incensed against the whites. The 
captain coolly replied, that he had heard of one white man 
having been burned a few days before, at one of the Miami 
villages, and had understood that another had avoided the 
same fate only, by running away into the woods, where, un- 
less retaken, it was supposed he would perish, as he had 
shown himself a miserable woodsman, and as numerous par- 
ties were in search of him. After a moment's hesitation 

22 



254 SKETCHES OF 

Skyles frankly acknowledged himself to be that miserable 
fugitive, and threw himself at once upon their mercy. The 
English captain heard him apparently without surprize, and 
granted his request without hesitation. All was done with 
the utmost sang froid. In a short time, they arrived at De- 
troit, where, to his no small astonishment, he beheld Chicka- 
tommo, Messhawa and their party, who had just arrived 
from Sandusky, after the sale of Johnston. Carefully a- 
voiding them, he lay close in the house of a trader until the 
following day, when another large party arrived in pursuit 
of him, (having traced him down the river to Lake Erie,) 
and paraded the streets for several days, uttering loud com- 
plaints against those who had robbed them of their prisoner. 
Poor Skyles entertained the most painful apprehensions for 
several days, but was at length relieved by their departure. 
As soon as possible, he obtained a passage to Montreal, and 
returned in safety to the United States. 

In noticing the fate of the companions of Johnston's capti- 
vity, we are naturally led to say something of the only fe- 
male of the party. The reader cannot have forgotten that 
one of the Miss Flemings was killed upon the Ohio, and 
that the other became a prisoner, and was assigned to the 
Cherokees. Johnston had been much surprised at the levi- 
ty of her conduct, when first taken. Instead of appearing 
dejected at the dreadful death of her sister, and the still 
more terrible fate of her friends, she never appeared more 
lively or better reconciled to her fate than while her captors 
lingered upon the banks of the Ohio. Upon the breaking 
up of the party, the Cherokees conducted their prisoner to- 
wards the Miami villages, and Johnston saw nothing more 
of her until after his own liberation. While he remained at 
the house of Mr. Duchouquet, the small party of Cherokees 
to whom she belonged, suddenly made their appearance in 
tke village in a condition so tattered and dilapidated, as to 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 265 

satisfy every one that all their booty had been wasted with 
their usual improvidence. Miss Fleming's appearance, par- 
ticularly, had been entirely changed. All the levity which 
had astonished Johnston so much on the banks of the Ohio, 
was completely gone. Her dress was tattered, her cheeks 
sunken, her eyes discoloured by weeping, and her whole 
manner expressive of the most heartfelt wretchedness. 
Johnston addressed her with kindness, and enquired the cause 
of so great a change, but she only replied, by wringing her 
hands, and bursting into tears. Her master quickly sum- 
moned her away, and on the morning after her arrival, she 
was compelled to leave the village, and accompany them to 
Lower Sandusky. Within a few days, Johnston, in compa- 
ny with his friend Duchouquet, followed them to that place, 
partly upon business, partly with the hope of effecting her 
liberation. He found the town thronged with Indians of va- 
rious tribes, and there, for the first time, he learned that his 
friend Skyles had effected his escape. Upon enquiring for 
the Cherokees, he learned that they were encamped with 
their prisoner within a quarter of a mile of the town, hold- 
ing themselves aloof from the rest, and evincing the most 
jealous watchfulness over their prisoner. Johnston instantly 
applied to the traders of Sandusky, for their good offices, and 
as usual, the request was promptly complied with. They 
went out in a body to the Cherokee camp, accompanied by 
a white man named Whittaker, who had been taken from Vir- 
ginia when a child, and had become completely naturalized 
among the Indians. This Whittaker was personally known 
to Miss Fleming, having often visited Pittsburgh where her 
father kept a small tavern, much frequented by Indians and 
traders. As soon as she beheld him, therefore, she ran up 
to the spot where he stood, and bursting into tears, implored 
him to save her from the cruel fate which she had no doubt, 
awaited her. He engaged very zealously in her ssrvice, and 



256 SKETCHES OF 

finding that all the offers of the traders were rejected with 
determined obstinacy, he returned to Detroit, and solicited 
the intercession of an old chief known among the whites by 
the name of "Old King Crane, v assuring him (a lie which 
we can scarcely blame,) that the woman was his sister. 
King Crane listened with gravity to the appeal of Whitta- 
ker, acknowledged the propriety of interfering in the case 
of so near a relative, and very calmly walked out to the 
Cherokee camp, in order to try the efficacy of his own elo- 
quence in behalf of the white squaw. He found her mas- 
ter, however, perfectly inexorable. The argument gradual- 
ly waxed warm, until at length the Cherokees became en- 
raged, and told the old man that it was a disgrace to a 
chief like him, to put himself upon a level with "white peo- 
ple," and that they looked upon him as no better than 'dirt .' 
At this insupportable insult, King Crane became exaspera- 
ted in turn, and a very edifying scene ensued, in which each 
bespattered the other with a profusion of abuse for several 
minutes, until the Old King recollected himself sufficiently, 
to draw off for the present, and concert measures for obtain- 
ing redress. He returned to the village in a towering pas- 
sion, and announced his determination to collect his young 
men and rescue the white squaw by force, and if the Cher- 
okees dared to resist, he swore that he would take their 
scalps upon the spot. Whittaker applauded this doughty 
resolution, but warned him of the necessity of despatch, as 
the Cherokees, alarmed at the idea of losing their prisoner, 
might be tempted to put her to death without further delay. 
This advice was acknowledged to be of weight, and before 
daylight on the following morning, King Crane assembled 
his young men and advanced cautiously upon the Cherokee 
encampment. He found all but the miserable prisoner bu- 
ried in sleep. She had been stripped naked, her body pain- 
ted black, and in this condition, had been bound to a stake? 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 257 

around which hickory poles had already been collected,and 
every other disposition made for burning her alive at day- 
light. She was moaning in a low tone as her deliverers 
approached, and was so much exhausted as not to be aware 
of their approach until King Crane had actually cut the 
cords which bound her, with his knife. He then ordered 
his young men to assist her in putting on«her clothes, which 
they obeyed with the> most stoical indifference. As soon as 
her toilet had been completed, the King awakened her mas- 
ters, and informed them that the squaw was Ms/ that if they 
submitt ed quietly, it was well ! — if not, his young men and 
himself were ready for them. The Cherokees, as may rea- 
dily be imagined, protested loudly against such unrighteous 
proceedings, but what could words avail against drawn tom- 
ahawks and superior numbers? They finally expressed 
their willingness to resign the squaw — but hoped that King 
Crane would not be such a "beast" as to refuse them the 
ransom which he had offered them on the preceding dav ! 
The King replied coolly, that he had the squaw now in his 
own hands — and would serve them only right if he refused 
to pay a single broach— but that he disdained to receive a- 
ny thing at their hands, without paying an equivalent! and 
would give them six hundred silver broaches. He then re- 
turned to Lower Sandusky, accompanied by the liberated 
prisoner. She was instantly painted as a squaw by Whitta- 
ker, and sent off, under care of two trusty Indians to Pitts- 
burgh, where she arrived in safety in the course of the fol- 
lowing week. 

The Cherokees, in the evening, paraded the streets of 
Sandusky, armed and painted, as if upon a war party, and 
loudly complained of the violence which had been offered 
to them. They declared that they would not leave town 
until they had shed the blood of a white man, in revenge 
for the loss of their prisoner. Johnston and Duchouquet 

22* 



258 SKETCHES OF 

were compelled to remain closely at home for several days r 
until to their great joy, the Cherokees finally left the village 
and were seen no more. 

The remainder of Johnston's narrative is easily despatch- 
ed He quickly left Lower Sandusky, and embarked in a 
boat laden with fur to Detroit. After remaining here a few 
days, he took a passage to Montreal, and for the first and 
last time, had an opportunity of beholding the tremendous 
falls of Niagara.* Having arrived at Montreal in safety, 
he remained a few days in order to arrange his affairs, and 
as soon as possible, continued his journey by way of Fort 
Stanwix to New York. There he had an interview with 
President Washington, who, having been informed of his es- 
cape, sent for him, in order to make a number of enquiries 
as to the strength of the tribes through which he had pas- 
sed, the force and condition of the British garrisons, and the 
degree of countenance which they had afforded to the hos- 
tile Indians, Having given all the information of which he 
was possessed, he was dismissed with great kindness, and in 
tjbie course of the following week, he found himself once more 
in the bosom of his family. As the reader may probably 
take some interest in the fate of the Indians whom we have 
mentioned, we are enabled to add something upon that sub- 
ject. Chickatommo was killed at the decisive battle of the 
"Fallen timber," where the united force of the northwestern 
tribes was defeated by Gen. Wayne. Messhawa fought at 
the same place, but escaped, and afterwards became a devo- 
ted follower of the celebrated Tecumseh. He fought at Tip- 
pecanoe, Raisin, and finally at the River Thames, where it 
is supposed he was killed. King Crane lived to a great age, 
was present at St. Clair's defeat, and at the "Fallen timber, 1 * 
but finally became reconciled to the Americans, and fought 

•This Was an Iroquois word, and in their language signified "The Tan* 
k* #f the waters!*' It is pronounced Oni-aa gaara. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 25$ 

under Harrison at Thames. Whittaker, the white man, was* 
in St. Clair's defeat, and afterwards with the Indians against 
Wayne. He has been dead many years. Tom Lewis fought 
a^inst the Americans in all the northwestern battles, until 
the final peace in 1796, and then was one of the deputation 
who came on to Washington city, where Johnston saw him 
in '97. He afterwards rose to the rank of chiefi among tbs 
Shawanees, but having an incurable propensity to rum and 
thieving, he was degraded from his rank and removed, with a 
band of his countrymen, to the country west of the Mississippi 



260 SKETCHES OF 



CHAPTER X. 
NARRATIVE 

OF 

CAPTAIN WILLIAM HUBBELL, 

JFrom ike Western Revieiv. 

In the year 1791, while the Indians were yet troublesome* 
especially on the banks of the Ohio, Captain William Hub- 
bell, who had previously emigrated to Kentucky from the 
state of Vermont, and who, after having fixed his family in 
the neighborhood of Frankfort, then a frontier settlement ? 
had been compelled to go to the eastward on business, was 
a second time on his way to this country. On one of the 
tributary streams of the river Monongahela, he procured a 
flat bottomed boat, and embarked in company with Mr. Dan- 
iel Light, and Mr. William Plascut and his family, consist- 
ing of a wife and eight children, destined for Limestone, 
Kentucky. On their progress down the river Ohio, and 
soon after passing Pittsburgh, they saw evident traces of In- 
dians along the banks, and there is every reason to believe 
that a boat which they overtook, and which, through care- 
lessness, was suffered to run aground on an island, became 
a prey to these merciless savages. Though Captain Hub- 
bell and his party stopped some time for it in a lower part of 
the river, it did not arrive, and it has never to their knowl- 
edge been heard of since. Before they reached the mouth 
of the Great Kenhawa, they had, by several successive ad- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 261 

ditions, increased their number to twenty, consisting, of nine 
men, three women, and eight children. The men, v ° besides 
those mentioned above, were one John Stoner, an Irish- 
man and a Dutchman whose names are not recollected, Mes- 
srs. Ray and Tucker, and a Mr. Kilpatrick, whose two- 
daughters also were of the party. Information received at 
Gallipolis confirmed the expectation, which appearances 
previously raised, of a serious conflict with a large body of 
Indians; and as Captain Hubbell had been regularly appoin- 
ted commander of the boat, every possible preparation was 
made for a formidable and successful resistance of the anti- 
cipated attack. The nine men were divided into three wach- 
es for the night, which were alternately to continue awake 
and be on the look out for two hours at a time. The arms 
on board, which consisted principally of old muskets much 
out of order, were collected, loaded, and put in the best pos- 
sible condition for service. At about sunset on that day* 
the 23d of March, 1791, our party overtook a fleet of six 
boats descending the river in company,, and intended to have 
continued with them, but as their passengers seemed to be 
more disposed to dancing than fighting, and as, soon after 
dark, notwithstanding the remonstrances- of Captain Hub- 
bell, they commenced fiddling and dancing instead of pre- 
paring their arms and taking the necessary rest preparatory 
to battle, it was wisely considered more hazardous to be in 
such company than to be alone. It was therefore determin- 
ed to proceed rapidly forward by aid of the oars and to leave 
those thoughtless fellow-travellers behind.. One of the boats, 
however, belonging to the fleet, commanded by a Captaia 
Greathouse, adopted the same plan, and for a while kept up 
with Captain Hubbell, but all its crew at length falling a 
sleep, that boat also ceased to be propelled- by the oars, and- 
Captain Hubbell and his party proceeded; steadily forward} 
alone. Early in the night a canoe was dimly seen floating^ 



262 SKETCHES OF 

down the river, in which were probably Indians reconnoi- 
tering, and other evident indications were observed of the 
neighborhood and hostile intentions of a formidable party of 
savages. 

It was now agreed, that should the attack, as was proba- 
ble, be deferred till morning, every man should be up before 
the dawn in order to make as great a show as possible of 
numbers and of strength ; and that, whenever the action 
should take place, the women and children should lie down 
on the cabin floor and be protected as well as they could 
by the trunks and other baggage, which might be placed 
around them. In this perilous situation they continued du- 
ring the night, and the Captain, who had not slept more than 
one hour since he left Pittsburgh, was too deeply impressed 
with the imminent danger which surrounded him to obtain 
any rest at that time. 

Just as daylight began to appear in the east, and before 
the men were up and at their posts agreeably to arrange- 
ment, a voice at some distance below them in a plaintive 
tone repeatedly solicited them to come on shore as there 
were some white persons who wished to obtain a passage in 
their boat. This the Captain very naturally and correctly 
concluded to be an Indian artifice, and its only effect was to 
rouse the men and place every one on his guard. The voice 
of entreaty was soon changed into the language of indigna- 
tion and insult, and the sound of distant paddles announced 
the approach of the savage foe. At length three Indian ca- 
noes were seen through the mist of the morning rapidly ad- 
vancing. With the utmost coolness the Captain and his com- 
panions prepared to receive them. The chairs, tables and 
other incumbrances were thrown into the river, in order to 
clear the deck for action. Every man took his position, and 
was ordered not to fire till the savages had approached so 
near, that, (to use the words of Captain Hubbell,) "the flash 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 263 

from the guns might singe their eye brows;" and a special 
caution was given, that the men should fire successively, so 
that there might be no interval. On the arrival of the ca- 
noes, they were found to contain about twenty-five or thirty 
Indians each. As soon as they had approached within the 
reach of musket shot, a general fire was given from one of 
them which wounded Mr. Tucker through the hip so severe- 
ly that his leg hung only by the flesh, and shot Mr. Light 
just below his ribs. The three canoes placed themselves at 
the bow, stern, and on the right side of the boat, so that they 
had an opportunity of raking in every direction. The fire 
now commenced from the boat, and had a powerful effect in 
checking the confidence and fury of the Indians. The Cap- 
tain, after firing his own gun took up that of one of the 
wounded men, raised it to his shoulder and was about to dis- 
charge it when a ball came and took away the lock ; he cool- 
ly turned round, seized a brand of fire from the kettle which 
served for a caboose, and applying it to the pan, discharged 
the piece with effect. A very regular and constant fire was 
now kept up on both sides. The Captain was just in the act 
of raising his gun a third time, when a ball passed through his 
right arm, and for a moment disabled him. Scarcely had he 
recovered from the shock and re-acquired the use of his 
hand, which had been suddenly drawn up by the wound^ 
when he observed the Indians in one of the canoes just about 
to board the boat in its bow, where the horses were placed 
belonging to the party. So near had they approached, that 
some of them had actually seized with their hands the side 
of the boat. Severely wounded as he was, he caught up a 
pair of horsemen's pistols and rushed forward to repel the 
attempt at boarding. On his approach the Indians fell back, 
and he discharged a pistol with effect at the foremost man- 
After firing the second pistol, he found himself without arms, 
and was compelled to retreat; but stepping back upon a pile 



264 SKETCHES OF 

<rf small wood which had been prepared for burning in the 
kettle, the thought struck him, that it might be made use of 
in repelling the foe, and he continued for some time to strike 
them with it so forcibly and actively that they were unable 
to enter the boat, and at length he wounded one of them so 
severely that with a yell they suddenly gave way. All the 
canoes instantly discontinued the contest and directed their 
course to Captain Greathouse's boat which was then in sight. 
Here a striking contrast was exhibited to the firmness and 
intrepidity which had been displayed. Instead of resisting 
the attack, the people on board of this boat retired to the cab- 
in in dismay. The Indians entered it without oppositon, and 
rowed it to the shore, where they instantly killed the Cap- 
tain and a lad of about fourteen years of age. The women 
they placed in the centre of their canoes, and manning them 
with fresh hands, again pursued Captain Hubbell and party. 
A melancholy alternative now presented itself to these brave 
but almost desponding men, either to fall a prey to the sava- 
ges themselves, or to run the risk of shooting the women, 
who had been placed in the canoes in the hope of deriving 
protection from their presence. But "self preservation is 
the first law of nature," and the Captain very justly remark- 
ed, there would not be much humanity in preserving their 
lives at such a sacrifice, merely that they might become vic- 
tims of savage cruelty at some subsequent period. 

There were now but four men left on board of Captain 
HubbelPs boat, capable of defending it, and the Captain 
himself was severely wounded in two places. The second 
attack, however, was resisted with almost incredible firm- 
ness and vigor. Whenever the Indians would rise to fire, 
their opponents would commonly give them the first shot, 
which in almost every instance would prove fatal. Not- 
withstanding the disparity of numbers, and the exhausted 
condition of the defenders of the boat, the Indians at length 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 265 

appeared to despair of success, and the canoes successive- 
ly retired to the shore. Just as the last one was departing, 
Captain Hubbell called to the Indian, who was standing in 
the stern, and on his turning round, discharged his piece at 
him. When the smoke, which for a moment obstructed the 
vision, was dissipated, he was seen lying on his back, and 
appeared to be severely, perhaps mortally wounded. 

Unfortunately the boat now drifted near to the shore where 
the Indians were collected, and a large concourse, probably 
between four and five hundred, were seen rushing down on 
the bank. Ray and Plascut, the only men remaining un- 
hurt, were placed at the oars, a ad as the boat was not more 
than twenty yards from shore, it was deemed prudent for all 
to lie down in as safe a position as possible and attempt to 
push forward with the utmost practicable rapidity. While they 
continued in this situation, nine balls were shot into one oar, 
and ten into the other, without wounding the rowers, who 
were hidden from view and protected by the side of the boat 
and the blankets in its stern. During this dreadful exposure 
to the fire of the savages, which continued about twenty 
minutes, Mr. Kilpatrick observed a particular Indian, whom 
he thought a favorable mark for his rifle, and, notwithstand- 
ing the solemn warning of Captain Hubbell rose to shoot 
him. He immediately received a ball in his mouth, which 
passed out at the back part of his head, and was almost at the 
same moment shot through the heart. He fell among the 
horses that about the same time were killed, and presented 
to his afflicted daughters and fellow-travellers, who were 
witnesses of the awful occurrence, a spectacle of horror which 
we need not further attempt to describe. 

The boat was now providentially and suddenly carried 
out into the middle of the stream and taken by the current 
beyond the reach of the enemy's balls. Our little band, re- 
duced as they were in numbers, wounded, afflicted, and a!. 

23 



266 SKETCHES OP 

most exhausted by fatigue, were still unsubdued in spirit, and 
being assembled in all their strength, men, women and chil- 
dren, with an appearance of triumph gave three hearty 
cheers, calling to the Indians to come on again if they were 
fond of the sport. 

Thus ended this awful conflict, in which out of nine men, 
two only escaped unhurt. Tucker and Kilpatrick were kil- 
led on the spot, Stoner was mortally wounded and died on 
his arrival at Limestone, and all the rest, excepting Ray 
and Plascut, were severely wounded. The women and chil- 
dren were all uninjured, excepting a little son of Mr. Plas- 
cut, who, after the battle was over, came to the Captain 
and with great coolness requested him to take a tall out 
of his head. On examination it appeared that a bullet 
which had passed through the side of the boat had penetra- 
ted the forehead of this little hero, and remained under the 
skin. The Captain took it out, and the youth, observing, 
"that is not all" raised his arm, and exhibited a piece of 
bone at the point of his elbow, which had been shot off and 
hung only by the skin. His mother exclaimed, '-why did 
you not tell me of this?'' "Because," he coolly replied, 
"the Captain directed us to be silent during the action, and I 
thought you would be likely to make a noise if I told you." 

The boat made the best of its way down the river, and 
the object was to reach Limestone that night. The Cap- 
tain's arm had bled profusely, and he was compelled to close 
the sleeve of his coat in order to retain the blood and stop its 
effusion. In this situation, tormented by excruciating pain 
and faint through loss of blood, he was under the necessity 
of steering the boat with his left arm, till about ten o'clock 
that night, when he was relieved by Mr. William Brooks^ 
who resided on the bank of the river, and who was induced 
by the calls of the suffering party to come out to their assis- 
tance. By his aid and that of some other persons who were 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 267 

in the same manner brought to their relief, they were ena 
bled to read) Limestone about twelve o'clock that night. 

Immediately on the arrival of Mr. Bjooks, Captain Hub 
bell, relieved from labor and responsibility, sunk under the 
weight of pain and fatigue, and became for a while totally 
insensible. When the boat reached Limestone, he found 
himself unable to walk, and was obliged to be carried up to 
the tavern. Here he had his wound dressed and continued 
several days until he acquired sufficient strength to proceed 
homewards. 

On the arrival of our party at Limestone, they found a 
considerable force of armed men, about to march against the 
same Indians, from whose attacks they had so severely suf- 
fered. They now learned, that the Sunday preceding, the 
same party of savages had cut off a detachment of men as- 
cending the Ohio from fort Washington at the mouth of Lick- 
ing river, and had killed with their tomahawks, without fi- 
ring a gun, twenty one out of twenty two men of which the 
detachment consisted. 

Crowds of people, as might be expected, came to witness 
the boat which had been the scene of so much heroism, and 
such horrid carnage, and to visit the resolute little band by 
whom it had been so gallantly and perseveringly defended. 
On examination it was found that the sides of the boat were 
literally filled with bullets and with bullet holes. There 
was scarcely a space of two feet square in the part above 
water, which had not either a ball remaining in it or a hole 
through which a ball had passed. Some persons who had 
the curiosity to count the number of holes in the blankets 
which were hung up as curtains in the stern of the boat, af- 
firmed that in the space of five feet square there were one 
hundred and twenty two. Four horses out of five were kil- 
led, and the escape of the fifth amidst such a shower of balls 
appears almost miraculous. 



268 SKETCHES OF 

The day after the arrival of Gaptain Hubbell and his 
companions* the five remaining boats, which they had pas- 
sed on the night preceding the battle, reached Limestone. 
Those on board remarked, that during the action they dis- 
tinctly saw the flashes, but could not hear the reports of the 
guns. The Indians, it appears, had met with too formida- 
ble a resistance from a single boat to attack a fleet, and suf- 
fered them to pass unmolested: and since that time, it is be- 
lieved that no boat has been assailed by Indians on the Ohio. 

The force which marched out to disperse this formidable 
body of savages, discovered several Indians dead on the 
shore near the scene of action. They also found the bodies 
of Captain Greathouse and several others, men, women and 
children, who had been on board of his boat. Most of them 
appeared to have been whipped to death* as they were found 
stripped, tied to trees, and marked with the appearance of 
lashes, and large rods which seemed to have been worn 
with use were observed lying near them. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 269 



CHAPTER XI. 

Heretofore our narrative has chiefly been confined to the ad- 
ventures of individuate, or at most, to the irregular/brays of 
Independent volunteers. We come now, however, to events 
upon a lar^e sea : e, and to a detail of nitiona^net individual 
efforts. Before entering, however, upon such a brief notice 
as cur limits will permit, of the events of the north western 
campaign, it will be necessary to premise a few observa- 
tions upon the causes oi'the long continued warfare to which 
the western states were exposed, while these upen the bor- 
ders of the Atlantic enjoyed ail the blessings of peace. 

At the general pacification of 1783, there were several 
stipulations upon both sides, which were not complied with. 
Great Britain had agreed, as speedily as possible, to evacu- 
ate all the north western posts, which lay within the boun 
danes of the United Slates, while, on the other band, Con- 
gress had stipulated that no legal impediments shculd le 
thrown in the way, in order to prevent the collection of 
debts due to British merchants before the declaration of war. 
Lar.;c importations had been made by American merchants, 
upon credit, in '73 and '74, and as all civil intercourse be- 
tween the two countries had ceased until the return of peace* 
the British creditors were unable to collect their debts. Up 
on the final ratification of the treaty, they naturally became 
desirous of recovering their propeity, while their debtors as 
naturally were desirous of avoiding payment. Congress 
had stipulated that no legal barrier should be thrown in the 
way; but as is well known, Congress, under the old confed- 
eration, was much more prolific in "resolutions," or rather 
^recommendations," than acts. The states might or might 

23* 



270 SkETCHES of 

not comply with them, as suited their convenience. Accor 
dingly, when Congress recommended the payment of all 
debts to the state legislatures, the legislatures determined that 
it was inexpedient to comply. The British creditor complain- 
ed to his government, the government remonstrated with 
Congress, upon so flagrant a' breach of one of the articles 
of pacification, Congress appealed to the legislatures, the le- 
gislatures were deaf and obstinate, and there the matter res- 
ted. When the question was agitated, as to the evacuation 
of the posts, the British in turn, became refractory, and de- 
termined to hold them until the acts of the state legislatures, 
preventing the legal collection of debts, were repealed- 
Many remonstrances were exchanged, but all to no purpose. 
In the mean time, the Indians were supplied, as usual, by 
the British agents, and if not openly encouraged, were un- 
doubtedly secretly countenanced in their repeated depreda- 
tions upon the frontier inhabitants. These, at length be- 
came so serious, as to demand the notice of government 
Accordingly, in the autumn of 1790, General Harmerwas 
detached at the head of three hundred regular troops, and 
more than one thousand militia, with orders to march upon 
their towns bordering upon the lakes, and inflict upon them 
such signal chastisement as should deter them from future 
depredations. On the 20th of September, the various troops, 
designed for the expedition, rendezvoused at Fort Washing- 
ton, now Cincinnati, and on the following day commenced 
their march to the Miami villages. The country was rough, 
swampy, and in many places, almost impassable, so that 
seventeen days were consumed before the main body could 
come within striking distance of the enemy. In the mean 
time, the great scarcity of provisions rendered it necessary 
for the General to sweep the forest with numerous small de- 
tachments, and as the woods swarmed with roving bands of 
Indians, most of these parties were cut ofF. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE, 271 

At length* the main body, considerably reduced by this 
petty warfare, came within a few miles of their towns. 
Here the General ordered Captain Armstrong, at the head of 
thirty regulars, and Col. Harden of Kentucky, with one 
hundred and fifty militia, to advance and reconnoitre. In 
the execution of this order they suddenly found themselves 
in the presence of a superior number of Indians, who sud- 
denly arose from the bushes and opened a heavy fire upon 
them. The militia instantly gave way, while the regulars 
accustomed to more orderly movements attempted a regular 
retreat. The enemy rushed upon them tomahawk in hand 
and completely surrounded them. The regulars attempted 
to open a passage with the bayonet, but in vain. They were 
all destroyed with the exception of their Captain and one 
Lieutenant. Captain Armstrong was remarkably stout and 
active, and succeeded in breaking through the enemy's line, 
although not without receiving several severe wounds. Fin- 
ding himself hard pressed, he plunged into a deep and miry 
swamp, where he lay concealed during the whole night 
within two hundred yards of the Indian camp, and witness- 
ed the dances and joyous festivity with which they celebra- 
ted their victory. The Lieutenant (Haitshorn,) escaped by 
accidentally stumbling over a log, and falling into a pit 
where he lay concealed by the rank grass which grew around 
him. The loss of the Militia was very trifling. Notwith- 
standing this severe check, Harmer advanced with the main 
body upon their villages, which he found deserted and in 
flames, the Indians having fired them with their own hands. 
Here he found several hundred acres of corn, which was 
completely destroyed. He then advanced upon the adjoin- 
ing villages, which he found deserted and burned as the first 
had been. Having destroyed all the corn which he found, the 
army commenced its retreat from the Indian country, suppo^ 
sing the enemy sufficiently intimidated. After marching a- 



272 SKETCHES OF 

bout ten miles on the homeward route, General Harmer re 
ceived information which induced him to suppose that a bo- 
dy of Indians had returned and taken possession of the vil- 
lage which he had just left. He detached, therefore, eighty 
regular troops under the orders of Major Wyllys, and nearly 
the whole of his militia under Col. Harden, with orders to re- 
turn to the village and destroy such of the enemy as presen 
ted themselves. The detachment accordingly countermarch- 
ed and proceeded with all possible despatch to the appointed 
spot, fearful only that the enemy might hear of their move- 
ment and escape before they could come up. The militia in 
loose order took the advance — the regulars moving in a hol- 
low square brought up the rear. Upon the plain in front of the 
town a number of Indians were seen, between whom and 
the militia a sharp action commenced. After a few rounds, 
with considerable effect upon both sides, the savages (Jed in 
disorder and were eagerly and impetuously pursued by the 
militia, who in the ardor pf the chace were drawn into the 
woods to a considerable distance from the regulars. Sud 
denly from the opposite quarter several hundred Indians ap- 
peared, rushing with loud yells upon the unsupported regu- 
lars. Major Wyllys, who was a brave and experienced offi- 
cer, formed his men in a square, and endeavored to gain a 
more favorable spot of ground, but was prevented by the 
desperate impetuosity with which the enemy assailed hirr. 
Unchecked by the murderous fire which was poured upon 
them from the different sides of the square, tliey rushed in 
masses up to the points of the bayonets, hurled their toma- 
hawks with fatal accuracy, and putting aside the bayonets 
with their hands, or clogging them with their bodies, they 
were quickly mingled with the troops, and handled their long 
knives with destructive effect. In two minutes the bloodj 
•truggle was over. Major Wyllys fell together with seventy 
three privates and one Lieutenant. One Captain, one En- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 273 

sign and seven privates, three of whom were wounded, were 
the sole survivors of this short but desperate encounter. 
The Indian loss was nearly equal, as they sustained several 
heavy fires which the closeness of their masses rendered ve- 
ry destructive, and as they rushed upon the bayonets of the 
troops with the most astonishing disregard to their own safe- 
ty. Their object was to overwhelm the regulars before the 
militia could return to their support, and it was as boldly ex- 
ecuted as it had been finely conceived. In a short time the 
militia returned from the pursuit of the flying party which 
had decoyed them to a distance, but it was now too late to 
retrieve the fortune of the day. After some sharp skirmish- 
ing they effected their retreat to the main body, with the loss 
of one hundred and eight killed and twenty eight wounded. 
This dreadful slaughter so reduced the strength and spirits 
of Harmer's army, that he was happy in being permitted to 
retreat unmolested, having totally failed in accomplishing 
the objects of the expedition, and by obstinately persever- 
ing in the ruinous plan of acting in detachments, having 
thrown away the lives of more than half of his regular force. 
This abortive expedition served only to encourage the enemy 
and to give additional rancor to their incursions. 

Before detailing the important events which followed, how- 
ever, we shall pause for a few moments to dwell upon the 
singular adventure of an individual who attended Harmer 
in his expedition. Jackson Johonnet was born in Connecti- 
cut in May, 1774. His father was a farmer, and managed, 
upon a very small and by no means fertile farm, to bring up 
a large family with credit and decency. Jackson, the eldest 
son, at the age of sixteen, became desirous of engaging in 
some business upon his own account, and as his father could 
well spare his labor upon the farm, he took leave of his fam- 
ily in the spring of '90, and embarked on board of a coasting 
schooner for Boston, Having arrived in this large city, and 



Tilt SKETCHES OF 

for the first time in his life, finding himself without friends, 
money or employment of any kind, he began to entertain 
some uncomfortable apprehensions of want. After wander- 
ing through the streets for several days, with a very discon- 
solate air, he was at length accosted by a dexterous recruit- 
ing officer, who seeing him to be a perfect greenhorn, deter- 
mined to enlist him if he could. Accosting him with great 
frankness, he soon became acquainted with his real condi- 
tion, end after some preliminary observations upon the gaie- 
ty, recklessness, and happiness of a soldier's life, he propos- 
ed that he should enlist in his company, and march out to 
the west, assuring him that if he was active and diligent, he 
would make an immense fortune in one year. Jackson 
at first shrunk from the idea of "enlisting," but his imagina- 
tion became gradually heated at the glowing description of 
the fertility of the western country, and the facility with 
which land could be acquired to any extent by a successful 
noldier. He finally promised him a sergeant's commission 
oi\ the spot, and held out to him the prospect of a lieutenan- 
cy in case of good behavior. Jackson at length yielded to 
the eloquence of this modern Kite, and in a few days found 
himself on the road to Pittsburgh, and highly charmed with 
his martial appearance, when arrayed in the uniform of his 
corps. Embarking on board of a fiat boat at Pittsburgh, he 
descended the Ohio as far as fort Washington, (Cincinnati,) 
where he found his regiment preparing to accompany Har- 
mer. A few days after his arrival, the march commenced. 
Here he, for the first time, awoke from the pleasant dream 
in which he had indulged. He had thought that war was a 
succession of battles and triumphs, leading naturally to 
wealth and glory. Splendid uniforms, gay music, waving 
plumes, and showy parades, had floated in splendid confu- 
sion before his fancy, until the march commenced. He now 
found that war was made up of dreadful fatigue, constant 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 275 

exposure to all weather, hard words and harder blows from 
his superiors, and the whole crowned by the constant gnaw 
ings of hunger without the means of satisfying it. 

On the tenth day of their march, (having been promoted 
to the rank of sergeant,) he was detached upon an exploring 
expedition, at the head of ten regular soldiers. Being all 
equally ignorant of Indian warfare, they were quickly de 
coyed into an ambuscade, and made prisoners by a party of 
Kickapoo Indians. Having been bound and secured in the 
usual manner, they were driven before the captors like a 
herd of bullocks, and with scarcely a morsel of food, were 
forced to make the most exhausting marches in the direction 
of the Kickapoo village. On the second day, George Ai- 
kins, one of his companions, a native of Ireland, was unable 
to endure his sufferings any longer, and sunk under his pack 
in the middle of the path. They instantly scalped him as 
he lay, and stripping him naked, pricked him with their 
knives in the most sensitive parts of the body, until they had 
aroused him to a consciousness of his situation, when they 
tortured him to death in the usual manner. The march in- 
stantly recommenced, and the wretched prisoners, faint and 
famished as they were, were so shocked at the fate of their 
companion, that they bore up for eight days under all their 
sufferings. On the ninth, however, they reached a small 
village, where crowds of both sexes came out to meet them, 
with shrieks and yells, which filled them with terror. Here 
they were compelled, as usual, to run the gauntlet, and as 
they were much worn down by hunger and fatigue, four of 
the party, viz : Durgee, Forsythe, Deloy, and Benton, all of 
New England, were unable to reach the council house, but 
fainted in the midst of the course. The boys and squaws 
instantly fell upon thein, and put them to death by torture. 
Here they remained in close confinement, and upon very 
scanty diet for several days, in the course of which thenew# 



276 SKETCHES OF 

of Harmer's defeat arrived. Piles of scalps, together with 
canteens, sashes, military hats, &c. were brought into the 
Tillage, and several white women and children were taken 
through the town on their way to the villages farther west. 
At the same time, four more of his companions were led orT 
to the western villages, and never heard of afterwards. Him- 
self and a corporal, named Sackville, were now the only sur 
vivors. They remained in close confinement two weeks 
longer. Their rations were barely sufficient to sustain life, 
and upon the receipt of any unpleasant intelligence, they 
were taken out, whipped severely and compelled to run the 
gauntlet. 

At length, on the fourteenth night of their confinement, 
they determined to make an effort to escape. Sackville had 
concealed a sharp penknife in a secret pocket, which the In- 
dians had been unable to discover. They were guarded by 
four warriors and one old hag of seventy, whose temper was 
as crooked as her person. The prisoners having been se- 
curely bound, the warriors lay down about midnight to 
sleep, ordering the old squaw to sit up during the rest of the 
night. Their guns stood in the corner of the hut, and their 
tomahawks, as usual, were attached to their sides. Their 
hopes of escape were founded upon the probability of elu- 
ding the vigilance of the hag, cutting their cords, and either 
avoiding or destroying their guard. The snoring of the war- 
riors quickly announced them asleep, and the old squaw 
hung in a drowsy attitude over the fire. Sackville cautious- 
ly cut his own cords, and after a few minutes delay, succee- 
ded in performing the same office for Jackson. But their 
work was scarcely begun yet. It was absolutely necessary 
that the old squaw should fall asleep, or be silenced in some 
other way! before they could either leave the hut, or attack 
the sleeping warriors. They waited impatiently for the 
apace of half an hour, but perceiving that although occasion • 



WESTERN ADVfcVTURE. 277 

ally dozing, she would rouse herself at short intervals, and 
regard them suspiciously, they exchanged looks of intelli- 
gence (being afraid even to whisper,) and prepared for the 
decisive effort. Jackson suddenly sprung up as silently as 
possible and grasping the old woman by the throat drew her 
head back with violence, when Sackville, who had watched 
his movements attentively, instantly cut her throat from ear 
to ear. A short gurgling moan was the only sound which 
escaped her, as the violence with which Jackson grasped 
her throat, effectually prevented her speaking. The sleep- 
ers were not awakened, although they appeared somewhat 
disturbed at the noise, and the two adventurers, seizing each 
a rifle, struck at the same moment with such fury as to disa- 
ble two of their enemies. The other two instantly sprung 
to their feet, but before they could draw their tomahawks or 
give the alarm, they were prostrated by the blows of the 
white men, who attacked them at the moment that they had 
gained their feet. Their enemies, although stunned, were 
not yet dead. They drew their tomahawks from their sides, 
therefore, and striking each Indian repeatedly upon the head, 
completed the work by piercing the heart of each with his 
own scalping knife. Selecting two rifles from the corner, 
together with their usual appendages, and taking such pro- 
visions as the hut afforded, they left the village as rapidly 
as possible, and fervently invoking the protection of heaven, 
committed themselves to the wilderness. Neither of them 
were good woodsmen, nor were either of them expert hun- 
ters. They attempted a southeastern course, however, as 
nearly as they could ascertain it, but were much embarrassed 
by the frequent recurrence of impassable bogs, which com- 
pelled them to change their course, and greatly retarded 
their progress. Knowing that the pursuit would be keen and 
persevering, they resorted to every method of baffling their 
enemies. They waded down many streams, and occasion- 

24 



278 SKETCHES OF 

ally surmounted rocky precipices, which, under other cir- 
cumstances, nothing could have induced them to attempt. 
Their sufferings from hunger were excessive, as they were 
so indifferently skilled in hunting, as to be unable to kill a 
sufficient quantity of game, although the woods abounded 
with deer, beaver and buffalo. 

On the fourth day, about 10 o^clock, A. M., they came to 
a fine spring, where they halted and determined to prepare 
their breakfast. Before kindling a fire, however, Sackville, 
either upon some vague suspicion of the proximity of an ene- 
my, or from some other cause, thought proper to ascend an ad- 
joining hillock and reconnoitre the ground around the spring. 
No measure was ever more providential. Jackson present- 
ly beheld him returning cautiously and silently to the spring, 
and being satisfied from his manner that danger was at hand, 
he held his rifle in readiness for action, at a moments war- 
ning. Sackville presently rejoined him with a countenance 
in which anxiety and resolution were strikingly blended. 
Jackson eagerly enquired the cause of his alarm. His com- 
panion, in a low voice, replied that they were within one hun- 
dred yards of four Indian warriors, who were reposing upon 
the bank of the little rivulet on the other side of the hillock. 
That they were about kindling a fire in order to prepare their 
breakfast, and that two white men lay bound hand and foot 
within twenty feet of them. He added that they were evi- 
dently prisoners, exposed to the same dreadful fate which 
they had just escaped, and concluded by declaring, that if 
Jackson would stand by him faithfully, he was determined 
to rescue them or perish in the attempt. Jackson gave him 
his hand and expressed his readiness to accompany him. 
Sackville then looked carefully to the priming of his gun, 
loosened his knife in the sheath, and desired Jackson to fol- 
low him, without making the slightest noise. They, accor- 
dingly, moved in a stooping posture up a small and bushy" 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 27 9 

ravine, which conducted them to the top of the gentle hill. 
When near the summit, they threw themselves flat upon the 
ground, and crawled into a thick cluster of whortlebury 
bushes, from which they had a fair view of the enemy. The 
Indians had not changed their position, but one of the white 
men was sitting up, and displayed the countenance of a young 
man, apparently about twenty five, pale, haggard and ex- 
hausted. Two Indians, with uplifted tomahawks, sat with- 
in three feet of him. One lay at full length upon the ground 
while the remaining one was in the act of lighting afire. 
Sackville cocked his gun and in a low voice directed Jack" 
son to fire at one of the guards who, from the quantity of beads 
and silver about his head, appeared to be a chief, while he 
selected the other guard for a mark. Each presented at 
the same moment, took a steady aim and fired. Both Indi- 
ans fell — the chief shot dead, the other mortally wounded. 
The other two Indians squatted in the grass like terrified 
partridges, when the hawk hovers over them, and lay still 
and motionless. Sackville and Jackson reloaded their guns 
as rapidly as possible, and shifted their position a few paces 
in order to obtain a better view of the enemy. In the mean 
time, the two Indians cautiously elevated their heads above 
the grass, and glanced rapidly around in order to observe 
from what quarter the fatal shots were discharged. The 
thin wreaths of smoke which curled above the bushes where 
our adventurers lay, betrayed their hiding place to the ene- 
my. Before they could take advantage of it, however, they 
were ready to fire again, and this second volley proved fatal 
to one of their enemies who lay without motion, but the oth- 
er was only slightly wounded, and endeavored to reach the 
bushes upon the opposite side of the brook. Sackville and 
Jackson now sprung to their feet and rushed upon him, but 
the desperate savage shot Sackville through the heart as he 
advanced, and flourished his tomahawk so menacingly at 



280 SKETCHES or 

Jackson that he was compelled to pause and reload his gun. 
The savage seized this opportunity to grasp the two rifles 
belonging to the Indians who had been first killed, and Jack- 
son in consequence was compelled to retreat to the friendly 
shelter of the bushes, which he had too hastily abandoned. 
At this instant the two prisoners having burst the cords which 
confined them, sprung to their feet and ran towards the bush- 
es for protection. Before they could reach them, however, 
the Indian shot one dead, and fired his last gun at the other, 
but without effect. Jackson having reloaded again fired upon 
their desperate enemy and wounded him in the neck from 
which he could see the blood spouting in a stream. Nothing 
daunted, the Indian rapidly reloaded his gun and again fired 
without effect. The prisoner who had escaped, now seiz- 
ed Sackville^s gun and he and Johonnet having reloaded, 
once more left the bushes and advanced upon the wounded 
enemy. The savage, although much exhausted from loss of 
blood, sat up at their approach and flourishing a tomahawk 
in each hand seemed at least determined to die game. Jo- 
honnet was anxious to take him alive, but was prevented by 
his companion who levelling his gun as he advanced shot his 
adversary through the head, and thus put an end to the con- 
flict. It was a melancholy victory to the survivors. Johon- 
net had lost his gallant comrade, and the rescued white man 
had to lament the death of his fellow captive. The last 
Indian had certainly inflicted a heavy penalty upon his en- 
emies, and died amply revenged. The rescued prisoner 
proved to be George Sexton, of Newport, Rhode Island r a 
private in Harmer's army. 

Fortunately for Johonnet, his new comrade was an excel- 
lent woodsman, and very readily informed his deliverer of 
their present situation and of the proper course to steer. He 
said that, in company with three others he had been taken 
by a party of Wabash Indians^ in the neighborhood of fort 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 281 

Jefferson; that two of his comrades having sunk under their 
sufferings, had been tomahawked and scalped upon the spot ; 
that himself and his dead companion, had been in hourly 
expectation of a similar fate; and concluded, with the war- 
mest expressions of gratitude for the gallantry with which 
he had been rescued. So lively, indeed, was his sense 
of obligation, that he would not permit Jackson to carry his 
own baggage, nor would he suffer him to watch more than 
three hours in the twenty four. On the following day, they 
fortunately fell in with a small detachment from fort Jeffer 
son, by which they were safely conducted to the fort. Here 
Jackson remained until summoned to attend St. Clair, in his 
disastrous expedition against the same Miami villages where 
he had lately suffered so much. 

24* 



282 



SKETCHES OF 



CHAPTER XII. 

We now come to one of the heaviest disasters which oc- 
curs in the annals of Indian warfare. The failure of Har- 
mer, made a deep impression upon the American nation, 
and was followed by a loud demand for a greater force, un- 
der the command of a more experienced general. General 
Arthur St. Clair was, at that time, Governor of the north 
western territory, and had a claim to the command of such 
forces as should be employed within his own limits. This 
gentleman had uniformity ranked high as an officer of cour- 
age and patriotism, but had been more uniformly unfortunate 
than any other officer in the American service. He had 
commanded at Ticonderoga in the spring of '77, and had 
conducted one of the most disastrous retreats which occur- 
red during the revolutionary war. Notwithstanding his re- 
peated misfortunes, he still commanded the respect of his 
brother officers, and the undiminished confidence of Wash- 
ington. He was now selected as the person most capable 
of restoring the American affairs in the North West, and was 
placed at the head of a regular force, amounting to near fif- 
teen hundred men, well furnished with artillery, and was em- 
powered to call out such reinforcements of militia as might 
be necessary. Cincinnati, as usual, was the place of ren- 
dezvous. 

In October, 1791, an army was assembled at that place, 
greatly superior, in numbers, officers and equipments, to any 
which had yet appeared in the west. The regular force was 
composed of three complete regiments of infantry, two com- 
panies of artillery and one of cavalry. The militia who join- 
ed him at fort Washington, amounted to upwards of six hun- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 283 

dred men, most of whom had long been accustomed to Indi- 
an warfare. The General commenced his march from Cin- 
cinnati on the — of October, and following the route of Har- 
mer, arrived at fort Jefferson without material loss r although 
not without having sustained much inconvenience from scar- 
city of provisions. The Kentucky rangers, amounting to 
upwards of two hundred men, had encountered several small 
parties of Indians, but no serious affair had as yet taken 
place. Shortly after leaving fort Jefferson, one of the mili- 
tia regiments, with their usual regard to discipline, deter- 
mined that it was inexpedient to proceed farther, and detach- 
ing themselves from the main body, returned rapidly to the 
fort on their way home. This illtimed mutiny, not only dis- 
couraged the remainder, but compelled the General to de- 
tach the first regiment in pursuit of them, if not to bring 
them back, at least to prevent them from injuring the stores, 
collected at the fort for the use of the army. With the re- 
mainder of the troops, amounting in all to about twelve 
hundred men, he continued his march to the great Miami 
villages. 

On the evening of the 3d of November, he encamped up- 
on a very commanding piece of ground, upon the bank of the 
river St. Mary's, where he determined to throw up some 
slight works for the purpose of protecting their knapsacks 
and baggage, having to move upon the Miami villages, sup- 
posed to be within twelve miles, as soon as the first regiment 
should rejoin them. The remainder of the evening was 
employed in concerting the plan of the proposed work with 
Major Furguson of the engineers, and when the centries 
were posted at night, every thing was as quiet as could have 
been desired. The troops were encamped in two lines, 
with an interval of seventy yards between them, which was 
all that the nature of the ground would permit. The bat- 
talions of Majors Butler, Clarke and Patterson, composed the 



284 sketches or 

front line, the whole under the orders of Major General But- 
ler, an officer of high and merited reputation. The front of 
the line was covered by a creek, its right flank by the river, 
and its left by a strong corps of infantry. The second line 
was composed of the battalions of Majors Gaither and Be- 
dinger, and the second regiment under the command of Lieut. 
Col. Darke. This line, like the other, was secured upon one 
flank by the river, and upon the other by the cavalry and 
pickets.* The night passed away without alarm. The sen- 
tinels were vigilant,! and the officers upon the alert. 

A few hours before day, St. Clair caused the reveillie to 
be beaten, and the troops to be paraded under arms, under 
the expectation that an attack would probably be made. In 
this situation, they continued until daylight, when they were 
dismissed to their tents. Some were endeavoring to snatch 
a few minute's sleep, others were preparing for the expect- 
ed march, when suddenly the report of a rifle was heard 
from the militia a few hundred yards in front, which was 
quickly followed by a sharp irregular volley in the same di- 
rection. The drums instantly beat to arms, the officers flew 
in every direction, and in two minutes the troops were form- 
ed in order of battle. Presently the militia rushed into the 
camp, in the utmost disorder, closely pursued by swarms of 
Indians, who, in many places, were mingled with them, and 
were cutting them down with their tomahawks. Major But- 
ler's battalion received the first shock, and was thrown into 

*The militia amounting to about two hundred and fifty men, were thrown 
across the creek about three hundred yards in front of the first line, and a 
small detachment of regulars under the orders of Captain Slough, were 
pushed still further in advance in order to prevent the possibility of surprize 

{Captain Slough was alarmed in the course of the night by the appear 
ance of an unusual number of the enemy in his front and upon both flanks 
A short time before day they had collected in such numbers as seriously to a 
larm him, and induced him to fall back upon the militia. He instantly inform 
ed General Butler of the circumstance, but that officer, unfortunately, slighted 
the intelligence and did not deem it of sufficient importance, to inform the com- 
mander in chief. 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 285 

disorder by the tumultuous flight of the militia, who, in their 
eagerness to escape, bore down every thing before them. 
HereMaj. Gen.Butler had stationed himself and here St. Clair 
directed his attention, in order to remedy the confusion 
which began to spread rapidly through the whole line. The 
Indians pressed forward with great audacity, and many of 
them were mingled with the troops, before their progress 
could be checked. Major General Butler was wounded at 
the first fire, and before his wound could be dressed, an Indi- 
an who had penetrated the ranks of the regiment, ran up to 
the spot where he lay, and tomahawked him before his atten- 
dants could interpose. The desperate savage was instantly 
killed. By great exertions, Butler's battalion was restored 
to order, and the heavy and sustained fire of the first line 
compelled the enemy to pause and shelter themselves. This 
interval, however, endured but for a moment. An invisi- 
ble but tremendous fire, quickly opened upon the whole front 
of the encampment, which rapidly extended to the rear, and 
encompassed the troops on both sides. St. Clair, who at 
that time, was worn down by a fever, and unable to mount 
his horse, nevertheless, as is universally admitted, exerted 
himself with a courage and presence of mind worthy of a 
better fate. He instantly directed his litter to the right of 
the rear line, where the great weight of fire fell, and where* 
the slaughter, particularly of the officers, was terrible* 
Here Darke commanded, an officer who had been trained to. 
hard service, during the revolutionary war, and who was, 
now gallantly exerting himself to check the consternation, 
which was evidently beginning to prevail. St. Clair order- 
ed him to make a rapid charge with the bayonet, and rouse 
the enemy from their covert. The order was instantly obey- 
ed, and, at first, apparently with great effect. Swarms of 
dusky bodies arose from the high grass, and fled before tha 
regiment with every mark of consternation, but as the troops 



286 SKETCHES OF 

were unable to overtake them, they quickly recovered their 
courage, and kept up so fatal a retreating fire, that the ex- 
hausted regulars were compelled, in their turn, to give way. 
This charge, however, relieved that particular point for 
some time; but the weight of the fire was transferred to the 
centre of the first line, where it threatened to annihilate ev- 
ery thing within its range. There, in turn, the unfortunate 
General was borne by his attendants, and ordered a second 
appeal to the bayonet. This second charge was made with 
the same impetuosity as at first, and with the same momen- 
tary success. But the attack was instantly shifted to anoth- 
er point, where the same charge was made and the same re- 
sult followed. The Indians would retire before them, still 
keeping up a most fatal fire, and the continentals were uni- 
formly compelled to retire in turn. St. Clair brought up the 
artillery in order to sweep the bushes with grape, but the 
horses and artillerymen were destroyed by the terrible fire 
of the enemy, before any effect could be produced. They 
were instantly manned afresh from the infantry, and again 
swept of defenders. 

The slaughter had now become prodigious. Four fifths 
of the officers and one half of the men were either killed or 
wounded. The ground was covered with bodies, and the 
little ravine which led to the river was running with blood. 
The fire of the enemy had not in the least slackened, and 
the troops were falling in heaps before it in every part of the 
camp. To have attempted to have maintained his position 
longer, could only have lead to the total destruction of his 
force, without the possibility of annoying the enemy, who 
never showed themselves, unless when charged, and whose 
numbers (to judge from the weight and extent of the fire,) 
must have at least doubled his own. The men were evi- 
dently much disheartened, but the officers, who were chiefly 
veterans of the revolution, still maintained a firm counte- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 287 

nance, and exerted themselves with unavailing heroism to 
the last. Under these circumstances, St. Clair determined 
to save the lives of the survivors if possible, and for that 
purpose collected the remnants of several battalions into one 
corps, at the head of which he ordered Lieut. Col. Darke to 
make an impetuous charge upon the enemy, in order to open 
a passage for the remainder of the army. Darke executed 
his orders with great spirit, and drove the Indians before him 
to the distance of a quarter of a mile. The remainder of 
the army instantly rushed through the opening, in order to 
gain the road. Major Clarke, with the remnant of his bat- 
talion, bringing up the rear, und endeavoring to keep the In- 
dians in check.* 

The retreat soon degenerated into a total rout. Officers, 
who strove to arrest the panic, only sacrificed themselves. 
Clarke, the leader of the rear guard, soon fell in this dan- 
gerous service, and his corps were totally disorganized. Of- 
ficers and soldiers were now mingled without the slightest 
regard to discipline, and "devil take the hindmost,' 1 was the 
order of the day. The pursuit, at first, was keen; but the 
temptation afforded by the pi under of the camp, soon brought 
them back, and the wearied, wounded, and disheartened fu- 
gitives, were permitted to retire from the field unmolested. 
The rout continued as far as fort Jefferson, twenty nine miles 
from the scene of action. The action lasted more than three 
hours, during the whole of which time, the fire was heavy 
and incessant. 

The loss, m proportion to the number engaged, was enor- 
mous, and is unparalleled, except in the affair of Braddock. 
Sixty eight officers were killed upon the spot, and twenty 
eight wounded. Out of nine hundred privates who went in- 

*General St. Clair's horses were killed as well as those of his aids. He was 
placed by a few friends upon an exhausted pack horse thatcould not be prick- 
ed out of a walk, and in this condition followed in the rear of the troops. 



288 SKETCHES OF 

to action, five hundred and fifty were left dead upon the field* 
and many of the survivors were wounded. Gen. St. Clair 
was untouched, although eight balls passed through his hat 
and clothes, ar,d several horses were killed under him. The 
Indian loss was reported by themselves at fifty eight killed 
and wounded, which was probably not underrated, as they 
were never visible after the first attack, until charged with 
the bayonet. They also rated their own force at from three 
to four thousand, nearly the whole force of the north western 
tribes having been assembled. They were probably at least 
double the force opposed to them, as, in a very few minutes 
after the first fire, the whole camp was surrounded and 
swept by afire which the oldest officers had never seen equal- 
led in weight and duration. At fort Jefferson, the fugitives 
were joined by the first regiment, who, as noticed above, had 
been detached in pursuit of the deserters. Here a council 
of war was called, which terminated in the unanimous opin- 
ion, that the junction of the first regiment did not justify an 
attempt upon the enemy in the present condition of affairs, 
and that the army should return to fort Washington without 
delay. This was accordingly done, and thus closed the se- 
cond campaign against the Indians. 

The unfortunate General was, as usual, assailed from one 
end of the country to the other, but particularly in Kentuc- 
ky, with one loud and merciless outcry of abuse, and even 
detestation. All the misfortunes of his life, (and they were 
many and bitter,) were brought up in array against him. 
He was reproached with cowardice, treason, imbecility, and 
a disposition to prolong the war, in order to preserve that au- 
thority which it gave him. He was charged with sacrificing 
the lives of his men and the interests of his country, to his 
own private ambition. Men, who had never fired a rifle, 
and never beheld an Indian, criticised severely the plan of 
his encampment and the order of his battle,* and, in short, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 289 

all the bitter ingredients which compose the cup of the un- 
succesful general, were drained to the dregs. 

It seems to be a universal, and probably a correct rule^ 
that, as the general reaps all the glory of success, so, in 
like manner, he should sustain all the disgrace of defeat. A 
victorious general, whether by a lucky blunder or otherwise, 
is distinguished for life — and an unfortunate one degraded. 
No charge in the one case, or excuse in the other, is listened 
to for a moment. Victory hides every blemish, and misfor- 
tune obscures every virtue. This is the popular rule fores* 
timatingthe merits of a leader, which, for a time, might eh> 
vate a noisy Cleon to the level of an Alexander. But the 
historian decides otherwise. Let. us look at the unfortunate 
St. Clair's conduct, and see if it deserves the furious and un- 
bounded censure which has been heaped upon it. It is ac- 
knowledged, that although attacked suddenly, (all Indian at- 
tacks are sudden,) he was not surprized. His troops were 
encamped in order of battle, and formed in ? moment. He 
cannot be charged with remissness, for he had arrayed them 
in order of battle three hours before daylight, and they had 
just been dismissed, when the attack commenced. He can 
not be charged with incompetency during the action, 
for all his measures, if allowance be made for the circum- 
stances attending it, were bold, judicious and military.* 
He did not suffer his men to be shot down in their ranks, as in 
Braddock's case, but made repeated, desperate and successful 
charges against the enemy, which nothing but their overwhel- 
ming superiority of numbers prevented from being decisive. 
The troops, in general, behaved with firmness, the officers 
were the flower of the old continental army, and not a man 
deserted his colours, until the order was given to retreat. In 
one word, the general's ctime was that, with nine hundred re- 
gulars and two hundred and fifty militia, he was unable, in 

*6ee Appendix B. 

25 



290 SKETCHES OF 

a thick wood and an unknown country, to overcome between 
three and four thousand Indians, selecting their own time 
and mode of attack, and led on by the most renowned chief 
of the northwestern tribes, which posterity will bring against 
General St. Clair. The charge of cowardice is unwor- 
thy of an answer. It could only be brought by a blind 
and ignorant populace, stung with rage as they ever are, at 
defeat, and pouring upon their unhappy victim, every re- 
proach which rage, ignorance and the malice of interested 
demagogues may suggest. It may be observed, that St. 
Clair always stood high in the opinion of Washington, not- 
withstanding his repeated misfortunes, and that in his last 
battle, although worn down by a cruel disease, he exposed 
his person in every part of the action, delivered his orders 
with coolness and judgment, and was one of the last who ar- 
rived at fort Jefferson in the retreat. His whole life after- 
wards was one long and wasting struggle with poverty, re- 
proach and misfortune. When demanding a compensation 
to which he considered himself entitled, before the Congress 
of the United States, a demand to which he had been com- 
pelled by the stern pressure of want, old age and decrepi- 
tude, he was stigmatized by a member of that body as a 
"pauper!" and his claim rejected! Rejected on that same 
floor where a princely present was bestowed on Lafayette, 
for services of the same kind which were refused to be ack- 
nowledged in the case of the unhappy and really indigent 
St. Clair. In the one case, their generosity would resound 
through the world, and gratify national pride. In the other, 
it would only have been an act of obscure justice! The offi- 
cial letter of St. Clair, at once temperate, mournful and dig- 
nified, is subjoined in the appendix. 

It remains only to mention such private incidents as we 
have been enabled to collect. The late William Kfjvnan, of 
Fleming County, at that time a young man of eighteen, was 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 291 

attached to the corps of rangers who accompanied the regular 
force. He had long been remarkable for strength and activ- 
ity. In the course of the march from fort Washington, he 
had repeated opportunities of testing his astonishing powers 
in that respect, and was universally admitted to be the swif 
test runner of the light corps. On the evening preceding the 
action, his corps had been advanced, as already observed, a 
few hundred yards in front of the first line of infantry, in or- 
der to give seasonable notice of the enemy's approach. Just 
as day was dawning, he observed about thirty Indians within 
one hundred yards of the guard fire, advancing cautiously 
towards the spot where he stood, together with about twenty 
rangers, the rest being considerably in the rear. Supposing 
it to be a mere scouting party, as usual, and not superior in 
number to the rangers, he sprung forward a few paces in or- 
der to shelter himself in a spot of peculiarly rank grass, and 
firing with a quick aim upon the foremost Indian, he instant- 
ly fell flat upon his face, and proceeded with all possible ra- 
pidity to reload his gun, not doubting for a moment, but that 
the rangers would maintain their position, and support him. 
The Indians, however, rushed forward in such overwhel- 
ming masses, that the rangers were compelled to fly with 
precipitation, leaving young Kennan in total ignorance of 
his danger. Fortunately, the Captain of his company had 
observed him when he threw himself in the grass, and sud- 
denly shouted aloud, "Run Kennan ! or you are a dead man !" 
He instantly sprung to his feet, and beheld Indians within 
ten feet of him, while his company was already more than 
one hundred yards in front. Not a moment was to be lost. 
He darted off with every muscle strained to its utmost, and 
was pursued by a dozen of the enemy with loud yells. He 
at first pressed straight forward to the usual fording place in 
the creek, which ran between the rangers and the main ar- 
mv, but several Indians who had passed him before he arose 



292 SKETCHES OF 

from the grass, threw themselves in the way, and complete- 
ly cut him off from the rest. By the most powerful exertions, 
he had thrown the whole body of pursuers behind him, with 
the exception of one young chief, (probably Messhawa,) who 
displayed a swiftness and perseverance equal to his own. In 
the circuit which Kennan was obliged to take, the race con- 
tinued for more than four hundred yards. The distance be 
tween them was about eighteen feet, which Kennan could not 
increase nor his adversary diminish. Each, for the time, put 
his whole soul into the race. Kennan, as far as he was a- 
ble, kept his eye upon the motions of his pursuer, lest he 
should throw the tomahawk, which he held aloft in a mena- 
cing attitude, and at length, finding that no other Indian was 
immediately at hand, he determined to try the mettle of his 
pursuer in a different manner, and felt for his tomahawk in 
order to turn at bay. It had escaped from its sheath, how- 
ever, while he lay in the grass, and his hair had almost lift- 
ed the cap from his head, when he saw himself totally dis- 
armed. As he had slackened his pace for a moment the In- 
dian was almost in reach of him, when he recommenced the 
race, but the idea of being without arms, lent wings to his 
flight, and for the first time, he saw himself gaining ground. 
He had watched the motions of his pursuer too closely, how- 
ever, to pay proper attention to the nature of the ground be- 
fore him, and he suddenly found himself in front of a large 
tree which had been blown down, and upon which brush and 
other impediments lay to the height of eight or nine feet. 
The Indian (who heretofore had not uttered the slightest 
sound) now gave a short quick yell, as if seeure of his vic- 
tim. Kennan had not a moment to deliberate. He must 
clear the impediment at a leap or perish. Putting his whole 
soul into the effort, he bounded into the air with a power 
which astonished himself, and clearing limbs, brush and ev-. 
ery thing else, alighted in perfect safety upon the other side 



WESTERN ADVBNTtmfi. 293 

A loud yell of astonishment burst from the band of pursuers, 
not one of whom had the hardihood to attempt the same feat. 
Kennan, as may be readily imagined, had no leisure to en- 
joy his triumph, but dashing into the bed of the creek (upon 
the banks of which his feat had been performed) where the 
high banks would shield him from the fire of the enemy, he 
ran up the stream until a convenient place offered for cros- 
sing, and rejoined the rangers in the rear of the encamp- 
ment, panting from the fatigue of exertions which have sel- 
dom been surpassed. No breathing time was allowed him, 
however. The attack instantly commenced, and as we have 
already observed, was maintained for three hours, with una- 
bated fury. 

When the retreat commenced, Kennan was attached to 
Major Clarke's battalion, and had the dangerous service of 
protecting the rear. This corps quickly lost its commander^ 
and was completely disorganized. Kennan vas among the 
hindmost when the flight commenced, but exerting these 
same powers which had saved him in the morning, he quick- 
ly o-ained the front, passing several horsemen in the flight 
Here he- beheld a private in his own company, an intimate 
acquaintance, lying upon the ground, with his thigh broken, 
and in tones of the most piercing distress, implored each 
horseman who hurried by to take him up behind him. As 
soon as he beheld Kennan coming up on foot, he stretched 
out his arms, and called aloud upon him to save him. Not- 
withstanding the imminent peril of the moment, his friend 
could not reject so passionate an appeal, but seizing him in 
his arms, he placed him upon his back, and ran in that man- 
ner for several hundred yards. Horseman after horseman 
passed them, all of whom refused to relieve him of his bur- 
den. At length the enemy was gaining upon him so fast, 
that Kennan saw their death certain, unless he relinquished 
his burden. He accordingly told his friend, that he had us- 

25* 



294 SKETCHES OF 

ed every possible exertion to save his life, but in vain — tha'i 
he must relax his hold around his neck or they would both 
perish. The unhappy wretch, heedless of every remon- 
strance, still clung convulsively to his back, and impeded his 
exertions until the foremost of the enemy (armed with tom- 
ahawks alone,) were within twenty yards of them. Ken- 
nan then drew his knife from its sheath and cut the fingers of 
his companion, thus compelling him to relinquish his hold. 
The unhappy man rolled upon the ground in utter helpless 
ness, and Kennan beheld him tomahawked before he had 
gone thirty yards. Relieved from his burden, he darted for- 
ward with an activity which once more brought him to the 
van. Here again he was compelled to neglect his own safe- 
ty, in order to attend to that of others. The late Governor 
Madison, of Kentucky, who afterwards commanded the corps 
which defended themselves so honorably at Raisin, a man 
who united tho most amiable temper to the most unconquer- 
able courage, was at that time a subaltern in Si. Clair's ar- 
my, and being a man of infirm constitution, was totally ex- 
hausted by the exertions of the morning, and was now sit- 
ting down calmly upon a log, awaiting the approach of his 
enemies. Kennan hastily accosted him, and enquired the 
cause of his delay. Madison, pointing to a wound which 
had bled profusely, replied that he was unable to walk fur- 
ther and had no horse. Kennan instantly ran back to a spot 
where he had seen an exhausted horse grazing, caught him 
without difficulty, and having assisted Madison to mount, 
walked by his side until they were out of danger. Fortu- 
nately, the pursuit soon ceased, as the plunder of the camp 
presented irresistible attractions to the enemy. The friend- 
ship thus formed between these two young men, endured 
without interruption through life. Mr. Kennan never en- 
tirely recovered from the immense exertions which he was 
compelled to make during this unfortunate expedition. H& 



SVESTERX ADVENTURE. 205 

settled in Fleming County, and continued for many years a 
leading member of the Baptist Church. He died in 1827. 
A party of Chickasaws were on their march to join St. 
Clair, but did not arrive in time to share in the action. One 
warrior of that nation, alone, was present, and displayed the 
most admirable address and activity. He positively refused 
to stand in the ranks with the soldiers, declaring that the 
"Shawanees would shoot him down like a wild pigeon;" 
but took refuge behind a log, a lew yards in front of Butler's 
battalion, and discharged his rifle eleven times at the ene- 
my with unerring accuracy. He could not be pursuaded, 
however, to forego the pleasure of scalping each Indian as 
he fell, and in performing this agreeable office he at length 
was shot down by the enemy and scalped in turn. 

The leader of the Indian army in this bloody engagement, 
was a chief the Missassago tribe, known by the name of 
"Little Turtle." Notwithstanding his name, he was at least 
six feet high, strong, muscular and remarkably dignified in 
his appearance. He was forty years of age, had seen much 
service, and had accompanied Burgoyne in his disastrous in- 
vasion. His aspect was harsh, sour and forbidding, and his 
person during the action, was arrayed in the very extremity 
of Indian foppery, having at least twenty dollars worth of 
silver depending from his nose and ears. The plan of at- 
tack was conceived by him alone, in opposition to the opin- 
ion of almost every other chief. Notwithstanding his abili- 
ty, however, he was said to have been unpopular among the 
Indians, probably in consequence of those very abilities. 

Many veteran officers, of inferior rank, who had served 
with distinction throughout the revolutionary war, were des- 
tined to perish in this unhappy action. Among them was 
the gallant and unrewarded Captain Kirkwood, of the old 
Delaware line, so often and so honorably mentioned in Lee's 
Memoirs. The State of Delaware having had but one re- 



296 SKETCHES OF 

giment on continental establishment, and that regiment ha* 
ving been reduced to a company at Camden, it was impos- 
sible for Kirkwood to be promoted without a violation of the 
ordinary rules, by which commissions were regulated. He 
accordingly, had the mortification of beholding junior offi- 
cers daily mounting above him in the scale of rank, while 
he himself, however meritorious, was compelled to remain 
in his present condition, on account of the small force which 
his native state could bring into the field. Notwithstanding 
this constant source of mortification, he fought with distin 
guished gallantry, throughout the war, and was personally 
engaged in the battles of Camden, Guilford, Hobkirks, Nine 
ty-six and Eutaw, the hottest and bloodiest which occurred 
during the revolution. At the peace of '83, he returned with 
a. broken fortune, but a high reputation for courage, honor 
and probitv, and upon the re-appearance of war in the north 
west, he hastened once more to the scene of action, and sub- 
mitted, without reluctance, to the command of officers who 
had been boys while he was fighting those severe battles 
in the south. He fell in a brave attempt to repel the enenr, 
with the bayonet, and thus closed a career as honorable as it 
was unrewarded. 

Lieutenant Col. Darke's escape, was almost miraculous- 
Possessed of a tali, striking figure, in full uniform, and su- 
perbly mounted, he headed three desperate charges again-" 
the enemy, in each of which he was a conspicuous mark. 
His clothes were cut in many places, but he escaped with on- 
ly a slight ffesh wound. In the last charge, Ensign Wilson, 
a youth of seventeen, was shot through the heart, and fell a 
few paces in the rear of the regiment, which was then rath- 
er rapidly returning to their original position. An Indian, 
attracted by his rich uniform, sprung up from the grass, and 
rushed forward to scalp him. Darke, who was at that time 
m the rear of his regiment, suddenly faced about, dashed at 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 297 

the Indian on horseback, and cleft his skull with his broad 
sword, drawing upon himself by the act, a rapid discharge 
of more than a dozen rifles. He rejoined his regiment, how* 
ever, in safety, being compelled to leave the body of young 
Wilson to the enemy. On the evening of the 8th of Novem- 
ber, the broken remains of the army arrived at fort Washing- 
ton, and were placed in winter quarters. 

A few days after St. Clair's defeat, General Scott, who 
immediately upon receiving intelligence of that disaster, 
had raised a corps of mounted volunteers with orders to re- 
connoitre and report the condition of the enemy. They, ac- 
cordingly, approached the battle ground with all possible se- 
crecy, and beheld it occupied by several hundred of the en- 
emy, in all the triumph of success. Many of them wer» 
drunk and incapable of either flight or resistance, other** 
were riding the bullocks with their faces turned to the tail, 
and all were in high glee. Hastily returning, they informed- 
Scott of the condition of the enemy, who lost no time in avail- 
ing himself of the opportunity. By a rapid forced march, 
he brought a considerable body of mounted men within reach 
of their camp, and hastily dividing them into three bodies, 
he fell suddenly upon the enemy, who were totally unpre- 
pared, and routed them with great slaughter. More than 
two hundred of the enemy were left dead upon the field, and 
many of the fugitives were wounded. All the artillery and 
baggage which yet remained upon the field were recovered, 
together with more than six hundred muskets, many of which 
had been scattered through the woods by their frightened 
owners. This was certainly the handsomest affair which 
graced the war, and does great honor to the courage and 
military abilities of Scott. It was of incalculable service 
to the west, in dispelling the gloom occasioned by the mis- 
fortune of St, Clair, and by the power of contrast, threw a 
darker shade of disgrace over that unfortunate General's mis- 



298 SKETCHES OF 

carriage. Thus closed the second offensive campaign a- 
gainst the north western tribes, convincing the federal gov- 
ernment, that their enemies were much more numerous and 
determined, than was at first apprehended, 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 299 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Amidst the almost universal clamor which arose upon the 
defeat of the unfortunate St» Clair, General Washington him- 
self did not entirely escape censure. The appointment of 
an old, infirm, and above all, an unlucky General to a com- 
mand, which above all other qualities, required activity, 
promptitude, and the power of sustaining great fatigue, was 
reprobated in no measured terms. Public opinion imperi- 
ously demanded a better selection for the third offensive cam* 
paign, and St. Clair was necessarily superceded. The choice 
of a proper successor became the theme of general discus- 
sion and was a matter of no small difficulty. The command 
was eagerly sought by many officers of the revolution, a- 
mong whom the most prominent were General Wayne, of 
Pennsylvania, and the late General Henry Lee, of Virginia, 
the celebrated commandant of the Partizan legion during 
the war of Independence. The peculiar fitness of Lee for 
a command of that kind, seems to have impressed itself 
strongly upon the mind of Washington, and there is a letter 
extant, which shows, that nothing but the discontent, which 
the appointment of so young an officer, would naturally have 
excited in the minds of those who had held a rank above 
him in the former war, could have prevented his being the 
successor of St. Clair. This objection did not apply to 
Wayne, and as he had repeatedly proved himself a bold, ac- 
tive, and energetic commander, his appointment was unac- 
ceptable to those only whose claims had been rejected — a 
description of men very difficult to be pleased. Wayne had 
entered the army, as Colonel of a regiment in the Pennsylva- 
nia line, and first attracted notice in the Canadian expedi- 



300 SKETCHES OF 

tion. He there displayed so keen a relish for battle upon 
all occasions, and upon any terms, exposed his own life as 
well as those of his men with such recklessness, and 
was in the habit of swearing so hard in the heat of battle, 
that he soon obtained, among the common soldiers, the nick- 
name of "Mad Anthony.'" He never enjoyed a high reputa 
tion as an officer of prudence, science, and combination, and 
on one occasion, particularly, was surprized by the celebra- 
ted English partizan, Grey, and routed with a slaughter 
scarcely inferior to that of St. Clair. As an executive offi- 
cer, however, he was incomparable. He seemed to be of 
opinion, that the whole science of war consisted in giving 
and taking hard blows; and we have heard from one who ser- 
ved under him many years, that his favorite word of com- 
mand was "Charge the d — d rascals with the bayonet." 
Whenever (as at Stony Point,) a bold, brisk onset was all 
that was required, no better General than Wayne could pos- 
sibly be selected, but on other occasions, his keen appetite 
for action was apt to hurry him into an imprudent exposure 
of his troops. In Virginia, he once narrowly escaped total 
destruction, by pressing too eagerly upon Lord Cornwallis, 
who afterwards repeatedly affirmed, that one half hour more 
of daylight would have sufficed for the destruction of his 
rash but gallant enemy, and afterwards in the Carolinas,his 
quarters were broken up, and his whole camp thrown into 
confusion by a small party of Creek Indians, who fell upon 
him as unexpectedly as if they had risen from the earth. 
Several severe losses, however, which he received in the 
course of his career, had taught him to temper his courage 
with a moderate degree of caution, and as he was remark- 
ably popular among the common soldiers, (who are better 
judges of the ordinary quality of courage than the higher 
military talents,) he was supposed to be peculiarly qualified 
for re-animating the cowering spirits of the troops There 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 301 

was an interval of more than a year between the defeat of 
St. Clair, and the appointment of his successor. Wayne 
lost no time in proceeding to the head quarters of the wes- 
tern army, and arrived at fort Washington in the spring of 
'93. Reinforcements of regular troops were constantly ar- 
riving, and in addition to the usual complement of cavalry 
and artillery, a strong legionary corps was raised upon con- 
tinental establishment, and placed under his command. In 
addition to this, he was authorized to call upon the Govern- 
or of Kentucky (Shelby,) for as many mounted militia as 
might be necessary. It was so late in the season, however, 
before all the various forces could be collected, and all the 
necessary supplies procured, that he judged it prudent to de- 
fer any offensive movement until the spring. The mounted 
volunteers were accordingly dismissed with some flattering 
encomiums upon their zeal and readiness, while the reg- 
ular forces were placed in winter quarters. The volunteers 
returned to Kentucky with a high idea of the efficiency of 
the regular force under Wayne, and sanguine expectations of 
a favorable result. The rapid succession of disasters which 
had heretofore attended the operations of regulars in con- 
junction with militia, had created a strong disgust to that spe- 
cies of force, and it was with difficulty that a sufficient num- 
ber of mounted men could be procured for co-operation. But 
after witnessing the order, diligence and energy which char- 
acterized Wayne^s conduct as an officer, and the indefatiga- 
ble labor with which he drilled his troops into a ready per- 
formance of the necessary movements, this disrelish to a co- 
operation with regulars completely vanished, and on the fol- 
lowing spring, the volunteers proffered their services with 
great alacrity. 

During the winter, Wayne remained at a fort which he 
had built upon a western fork of the little Miami, and to 
which he had given the name of Greenville. By detach- 

26 



302 SKETCHES OF 

ments from the regular troops, he was enabled to sweep the 
country lying between him and the Miami villages, and ha- 
ving taken possession of the ground upon which St. Clair 
was defeated, he erected a small fort upon it, to which he 
gave the name of Recovery. His orders were positive, to 
endeavor, if possible, to procure peace upon reasonable 
terms, without resorting to force, and he accordingly .opened 
several conferences with the hostile tribes during the winter. 
Many of their chiefs visited him in his camp, and examined 
his troops, artillery and equipments with great attention, and 
from time to time made ample professions of a disposition to 
bury the hatchet; but nothing definite could be drawn from 
them, and from the known partiality of Wayne to the decis- 
ion of the sword, could it be supposed that he pressed the 
overtures with much eagerness. As the spring approached, 
the visits of the Indians became more rare, and their profes- 
sions of friendship waxed fainter. In February, they threw 
aside the mask at once, and made a bold effort to carry the 
distant out post at fort Recovery by a coup de main. In 
this, however, they were frustrated by the vigilance and 
energy of the garrison, and finding that Wayne was neither 
to be surprized nor deceived, they employed themselves 
in collecting their utmost strength, with a determination to 
abide the brunt of battle. 

In the spring, the General called upon the Governor of 
Kentucky for a detachment of mounted men, who repaired 
with great alacrity to his standard, in two brigades under 
Todd and Barbee, the whole commanded by Major General 
Scott, amounting to more than fifteen hundred men, accus- 
tomed to Indian warfare. The regular force including cav- 
alry and artillery, amounted to about two thousand, so that 
the General found himself at the head of three thousand 
men, well provided with every thing, in high spirits and ea- 
ger for battle. The Indian force did not exceed two thou- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 303 

sand, and was known to have assembled in the neighborhood 
of the British fort at the rapids of the Miami. 

It was late in July, before Wayne was ready to march 
from Greenville, and from the nature of the country as well 
as the necessity of guarding against surprize, his progress 
was very leisurely. On the 19th of August, when with- 
in a day's march of the enemy's position, [he determined 
to send a messenger, charged with the last offer of peace 
and friendship, which he intended to make. For this dan- 
gerous, and apparently useless office, he selected a private 
volunteer, named Miller, who had formerly been taken by 
the Indians, and lived for many years upon the banks of the 
Miami. Miller, however, appeared to value his own neck 
much more highly than the General did, as he stoutly re- 
monstrated against the duty, declaring that it would be use- 
less to the army, as well as destructive to himself. He de- 
clared, confidently, that the Indians, from many undoubted 
signs, were resolutely bent upon battle, and would listen to 
nothing of which he might be the bearer. He added that, 
he knew them of old, and was satisfied that they would roast 
him alive, without an instant's hesitation, in defiance of his 
white flag, and sacred character of ambassador. Wayne, 
however, was not to be diverted from his purpose. He as- 
sured Miller that he would hold eight or ten Indians then in 
his camp, as hostages for his safe return, and if the enemy 
roasted him, he swore that a noble hecatomb should be offer- 
ed to his manes, as he would compel all his prisoners to un- 
dergo the same fate; but concluded with an assurance that 
the Indians, when informed of his determination, would dis- 
miss him in perfect safety, for a regard to the lives of their 
friends. Reluctantly, and with many dark prophecies of 
the fate which awaited him, he at length consented to go up- 
on the mission, and having taken leave of his friends, he set 
off at a rapid pace for the Indian camp. When within view 



304 SKETCHES OF 

of it, he hoisted a white flag upon a pole and marched boldlv 
forward, knowing that in this, as in most other cases, the 
boldest is the safest course. As soon as they beheld him ap- 
proaching, they ran out to meet him with loud yells, bran- 
dishing ther tomahawks, and crying out in their own lan- 
guage "Kill the runaway!" Miller, who well understood 
their language, instantly addressed them with great earnest- 
ness, and in a few words made known the cause of his visit, 
and the guarantee which Wayne held for his safe return. 
To the first part of the intelligence they listened with su- 
preme contempt. A long conference ensued, in which many 
chiefs spoke, but nothing could be determined upon. 

On the next day, Miller was ordered to return to Wayne, 
with some evasive message, intending to amuse him, until 
they could devise some means of recovering their friends. 
He, accordingly, left them with great readiness, and was re- 
turning with all possible despatch, when he met the General 
in full march upon the enemy, having become tired of wait- 
ing for the return of his messenger. Wayne's object in sen- 
ding Miller, is difficult to be conjectured. The Indians had 
constantly refused to come to any terms. They had sent 
away their women, and given every indication of a disposi- 
tion to fight, and were in possession of ground which would 
give them immense advantages against the regulars. He 
could scarcely suppose that a treaty could be effected, nor 
with the prospect of battle before him, which to him, pre- 
sented all the attractions of a ball to a dandy or a dinner to 
an epicure, is it to be supposed that he could have been very 
desirous of such an event. The ground was well known to 
many individuals in the army, and Miller's report could have 
added but little to the knowledge already existing, to say no- 
thing of the strong probability, that he might never return 
from a duty so perilous! The truth is, the old General val- 
ued the life of a soldier at an exceedingly low rate, and 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 305 

thought that even if the mission brought no advantage, it was 
attended with no other danger, than the chance of death to 
a single soldier, which did not deserve a moment's thought. 
The General received the report of Miller without delay- 
ing his march for a moment, which was continued in order of 
battle, until he arrived within view of the enemy. The re- 
gular force formed the centre column, one brigade of moun- 
ted volunteers moved upon the left under Gen. Barbee, the 
other brought up the rear under Brigadier Todd. , The right 
flank was covered by the river, and Major Price, with a se- 
lected corps of mounted volunteers, was advanced about five 
miles in front, with orders to feel the enemy's position, and 
then fall back upon the main body. About noon, the ad- 
vanced corps received so heavy a fire from a concealed en- 
emy, as to compel it to retire with precipitation. The heads 
of the columns quickly reached the hostile ground, and had 
a view of the enemy. The ground for miles was covered 
with a thick growth of timber, which rendered the operation 
of cavalry extremely difficult. The Indians occupied a thick 
wood in front, where an immense number of trees had been 
blown down by a hurricane, the branches of which were 
interlocked in such a manner as greatly to impede the exer- 
tions of the regulars. The enemy were formed in three 
parallel lines, at right angles to the river, and displayed a 
front of more than two miles. Wayne rode forward to re- 
connoitre their positions, and perceiving from the weight 
and extent of the fire, that they were in full force, he instant- 
ly made dispositions for the attack. The whole of the moun- 
ted volunteers were ordered to make a circuit, for the pur- 
pose of turning the right fiank of the Indians — the cavalry 
were ordered to move up under cover of the river bank, and 
if possible, turn their left, while the regular infantry were 
formed in a thick wood in front of the "Fallen timber," with 
orders, as soon as the signal was given, to rush' forward at 

26* 



30$ SKETCHES Of 

full speed, without firing a shot, arousing the enemy from 
their covert at the point of the bayonet, and then to deliver 
a close fire upon their backs, pressing them so closely as not 
to permit them to reload their guns. All these orders were 
executed with precision. The mounted volunteers moved 
off rapidly to occupy the designated ground, while the first 
line of infantry, was formed under the eye of the comman- 
der for the perilous charge in front. 

As soon as time had been given for the arrival of the sev- 
eral corps, upon their respective points, the order was given 
to advance, and the infantry, rushing through a tremendous 
fire of rifles, and overleaping every impediment, hastened to 
close with their concealed enemy, and maintain the struggle 
on equal terms. Although their loss, in this desperate charge, 
was by no means inconsiderable, yet the effect was decisive. 
The enemy rose and fled before them more than two miles, 
with considerable loss, as, owing to the orders of Wayne, they 
were nearly as much exposed as the regulars. Such was 
the rapidity of the advance, and the precipitation of the re- 
treat, that only a small part of the volunteers could get up in 
time to share in the action, although there can be no ques- 
tion that their presence, and threatening movement, contri- 
buted equally with the impetuous charge of the infantry, to 
the success of the day. The broken remains of the Indian 
army were pursued under the guns of the British fort, and 
so keen was the ardor of Wayne's men, and so strong their 
resentment against the English, that it was with the utmost 
difficulty, they could be restrained from storming it upon the 
spot. As it was, many of the Kentucky troops advanced 
within gunshot, and insulted the garrison with a select vol- 
ley of oaths and epithets, which must have given the British 
commandant a high idea of backwoods gentility. He in- 
stantly wrote an indignant letter to General Wayne, com- 
plaining of the outrage, and demanding by whatauthority he 



WESTERN AD?ENT*Jft£. 30? 

trespassed upon the sacred precincts of a British garrison? 
Now, "Mad Anthony" was the last man in the world to b© 
dragooned into politeness, and he replied in terras but little 
short of those employed by the Kentuckians,. and satisfacto- 
rily informed Captain Campbell, the British commandant, 
that his only chance of safety was silence and civility. Af- 
ter some sharp messages on both sides, the war of the pen 
ceased, and the destruction of property began. Houses r 
stores, cornfields, orchards, were soon wrapped in flames or 
levelled with the earth. The dwelling house and store of 
Col. McKee, the Indian Agent, shared the fate of the rest, 
All this was performed before the face of Captain Campbell r 
who was compelled to look on in silence, and without any 
effort to prevent it. There remains not the least question 
now that the Indians were not only encouraged in their acts 
of hostility by the English traders, but were actually sup- 
plied with arms, ammunition and provisions, by order of the 
English commandant at Detroit, Col. England.* There re- 
mains a correspondence between this gentleman and McKee, 
in which urgent demands are made for fresh supplies of am- 
munition, and the approach of "the enemy" (as they call 
Wayne,) is mentioned with great anxiety. After the battle 
of the rapids, he writes that the Indians are much discour- 
aged, and that "it will require great efforts to induce them to 
remain in a body" Had Wayne been positively informed 
of this circumstance, lie would scarcely have restrained his 
men from a more energetic expression of indignation. 

The Indian force being completely dispersed, their corn- 
fields cut up, and their houses destroyed, Wayne drew off 

*This gentleman was remakable for his immense height and enormous quan 
tity of flesh. After his return from America, the waggish Prinre of Wales, 
who was himself no pigmy, became desirous of seeing him. Col. England 
was one day pointed out to him by Sheridan, as he was in the act of disinoun 
Ung from his horse. The Prince regarded him w»th marked attention for ser^ 
eral minutes, and then turning to Sheridan, said with a laugh "Col. England 
hey! You should have said Great Britain t by G — d!" 



308 SKETCHES OF 

from the neighborhood of the British post, and in order to 
hold the Indians permanently in check, he erected a fort at 
the junction of the Auglaize and Miami, in the very heart of 
the Indian country, to which he gave the appropriate name 
of Defiance. As this was connected with fort Washington 
by various intermediate fortifications, it could not fail com- 
pletely to overawe the enemy, who, in a very short time, ur- 
gently and unanimously demanded peace. 

No victory could have been better timed than that of 
Wayne. The various tribes of Indians throughout the whole 
of the United States, encouraged by the repeated disasters 
of our armies in the north west, had become very unsteady, 
and menacing in their intercourse with the whites. The 
Creeks and Cherokees, in the south, were already in arms, 
while the Oneidas, Tuscaroras, &c*, in the north, were evi- 
dently preparing for hostilities. The shock of the victory 
at the Rapids, however, was instantly felt in all quarters. 
The southern Indians instantly demanded peace — the Onei- 
das, conscious of their evil intentions and fearful of the con- 
sequences, became suddenly affectionate even to servility, 
and within a few months after the victory, all the frontiers 
enjoyed the most profound peace. Wayne reported his loss 
at thirty three killed and one hundred wounded. The Indi- 
an loss could not be ascertained, but was supposed to exceed 
that of the Americans. This, however, is very doubtful, as 
they gave way immediately, and were not so much exposed 
as the continentals. 

One circumstance attending their flight is remarkable and 
deserves to be inserted. Three Indians being hard pressed 
by the cavalry upon one side, and the infantry upon the oth- 
er, plunged into the river and attempted to swim to the oppo- 
site shore. A runaway negro who had attached himself to 
the American army, was concealed in the bushes upon the 
opposite bank, and perceiving three Indians approaching 



WESTERN AD VENTURE. 309 

nearer than in his opinion was consistent with the security 
of his hiding place, he collected courage enough to level his 
rifle at the foremost, as he was swimming, and shot him 
through the head. The other two Indians instantly halted 
in the water, and attempted to drag the body of their dead 
companion ashore. The negro, in the mean time, reloaded 
his gun and shot another dead upon the spot. The survivor 
instantly seized hold of both bodies, and attempted with a 
fidelity which seems astonishing, to bring them both to land. 
The negro having had leisure to reload a second time, and fir- 
ing from his covert upon the surviving Indian, wounded him 
mortally while struggling with the dead bodies. He then 
ventured to approach them, and from the striking resem- 
blance of their features, as well as their devoted attach- 
ment, they were supposed to have been brothers. After scal- 
ping them, he permitted their bodies to float down the 
stream. 

We shall conclude our sketches with an anecdote, which, 
although partaking somewhat of the marvellous, is too w r ell 
authenticated to be rejected. Early in the sping of '93, two 
boys by the name of Johnson, the one twelve the other nine 
years of age, were playing on the banks of Short Creek* 
near the mouth of the Muskingum, and occasionally skip- 
ping stones in the water. At a distance, they beheld two 
men, dressed like ordinary settlers, in hats and coats, who 
gradually approached them, and from time to time, threw 
stones into the water in imitation of the children. At lengthy 
when within one hundred yards of the boys, they suddenly 
threw offthe mask, and rushing rapidly upon them, made 
them prisoners. They proved to be Indians of the Delaware 
tribe. Taking the children in their arms, they ran hastily 
into the woods, and after a rapid march of about six miles?- 
encamped for the night. Having kindled a fire and laid 
their rifles and tomahawks against an adjoining tree,, the^ 



310 SKETCHES OF 

lay down to rest, each with a boy in his arms. The chil- 
dren as may readily be supposed, were too much agitated to 
sleep. The eldest at length began to move his limbs cau- 
tiously, and finding that the Indian who held him remained 
fast asleep, he gradually disengaged himself from his arms, 
and walking to the fire which had burned low, remained sev- 
eral minutes in suspense as to what was next to be done. 
Having stirred the fire, and ascertained by its light the ex- 
act position of the enemy's arms, he whispered softly to his 
brother to imitate his example, and if possible, extricate him- 
self from his keeper. The littte fellow did as his brother 
directed, and both stood irresolute for several minutes a- 
round the fire. At length, the eldest, who was of a very 
resolute disposition, proposed that they should kill the sleep- 
ing Indians, and return home. The eldest pointed to one of 
the guns, and assured his brother that if he would only pull 
the trigger of that gun after he had placed it in rest, he 
would answer for the other Indian. The plan was soon a- 
greed upon. The rifle was levelled with the muzzle resting 
upon a log which lay near, and having stationed his brother 
at the breach with positive directions not to touch the trig- 
ger until he gave the word, he seized a tomahawk and ad- 
vanced cautiously to the other sleeper. Such was the agi- 
tation of the younger, however, that he touched the trigger 
too soon, and the report of his gun awakened the other Indi- 
an before his brother was quite prepared. He struck the 
blow, however, with firmness, although, in the hurry of the 
act, it was done with the blunt part of the hatchet, and only 
stunned his antagonist. Quickly repeating the blow, how- 
ever, with the edge, he inflicted a deep wound upon the In- 
dian's head, and after repeated strokes, left him lifeless up- 
on the spot. The younger, frightened at the explosion of 
his own gun, had already betaken himself to his heels, and 
was with difficulty overtaken by his brother. Having re- 



WESTERN ADVENTURE. 311 

gained the road by which they had advanced, the elder fixed 
his hat upon a bush in order to mark the spot, and by day- 
light they had regained their homes. They found their mo- 
ther in an agony of grief for their loss, and ignorant, wheth- 
er they had been drowned or taken by the Indians. Their 
tale was heard with astonishment, not unmingled with incre- 
dulity, and a few of the neighbors insisted upon accompany- 
ing them instantly to the spot, where so extraordinary a ren- 
contre had occurred. The place was soon found, and the 
truth of the boy's story placed beyond doubt. The toma- 
hawked Indian lay in his blood, where he fell, but the one 
who had been shot was not to be found. A broad trail of 
blood, however, enabled them to trace his footsteps, and he 
was at length overtaken. His apearance was most ghastly. 
His under jaw had been entirely shot away, and his hands 
and breast were covered with clotted blood. Although, evi- 
dently much exhausted, he still kept his pursuers at bay, 
and faced them from time to time with an air of determined 
resolution. Either his gory appearance, or the apprehen- 
sion that more were in the neighborhood, had such an effect 
upon his pursuers, that notwithstanding their numbers, he 
was permitted to escape. Whether he survived or perished 
in the wilderness, could never be ascertained, but from the 
severity of the wound, the latter supposition is most prob- 
able. 

From the peace of '94, down to the renewal of war in 
the north west, under the auspices of Tecumsehand the Pro- 
phet, no event occurred of sufficient importance to claim our 
notice. The war was over, and even private and individual 
aggression was of rare occurrence. The country which had 
been the scene of those fierce conflicts which we have en- 
deavored to relate, became settled with a rapidity totally un- 
precedented in the annals of the world. The forests be- 
came rapidly thinned, and the game equally as rapidly dis- 



312 SKETCHES OF 

appeared. Numerous villages, as if by enchantment, were 
daily springing up in those wild scenes, where Kenton, 
Crawford, Slover,and Johnston, had endured such sufferings; 
and the Indians, from fierce and numerous tribes, were grad- 
ually melting down to a few squalid wanderers, hovering 
like restless spirits around the scenes of their former glory ? 
or driven, w r ith insult, from the doors of the settlers, where 
they were perpetually calling for food and rum. Such wan- 
derers were frequently murdered by lawless white men, who, 
like the rovers of old, contended that "there was no peace 
beyond the line," and as such offences were rarely punish- 
ed, the Indians gradually became satisfied that they muster 
ther retire beyond the reach of the whites, or make one last 
effort to retrieve the sinking fortunes of their race. Te- 
cumseh was the great apostle of this reviving spirit, and to 
do him justice, displayed a genius and perseverance worthy of 
a better fate. As these events, however, are beyond our lim- 
its, we must refer the young reader, who may have accom- 
panied us thus far, to the histories of the day, where his cu- 
riosity will be amply gratified. 



APPENDIX. 



A. 

In the life of Kenton, we had occasion to refer to vari- 
ous names and circumstances, which, in our anxiety to pre- 
serve the unity and connexion of the narrative, we passed 
over very slightly at the time, reserving a more full detail 
for the present place. We allude to the celebrated war upon 
the Kenhawa, generally known by the name of Dunmore's 
expedition, in which the names of '"Logan," "Lewis," "Gir- 
ty," Cornstalk," &c, figure conspicuously. Many and va- 
rious reasons have been assigned for this war. Some have 
attributed it to the murder of Logan's family by Cressup, 
others to the equally atrocious murder of "Bald Eagle," a 
celebrated Delaware chief. Both, probably, contributed to 
hasten the rupture, which, however, would unquestionably 
have taken place without either. The cause of this, as of 
all other Indian wars, is to be found in the jealousy and un- 
easiness with which the Indians beheld the rapid extension 
of the white settlements. After the peace of ? 63, large 
tracts of land in the west had been assigned, as bounties, to 
such officers and soldiers as had fought throughout the war. 
Accordingly, as soon as peace was restored, crowds of emi- 
grants hastened to the west, attended by the usual swarm of 
surveyors, speculators, &,c. The inhabitants of the frontiers 
became mingled with the Indians. They visited and receiv- 

27 



314 APPENDIX. 

ed visits from each other, and frequently met in their hunt- 
ing parties. Peace existed between the nations, but the old, 
vindictive feelings, occasioned by mutual injuries, still ran- 
kled in the breast of individuals. Civilities were quickly 
folio ved by murders, which led to retaliation, remonstran- 
ces, promises of amendment, and generally closed with fresh 
murders. 

The murder of "Bald Eagle," an aged Delaware Sachem, 
was peculiarly irritating to that warlike nation. He spoke 
the English language with great fluency, and being remark- 
ably fond of tobacco, sweetmeats, and rum, all of which 
were generally offered to him in profusion in the settlements, 
he was a frequent visiter at the fort erected at the mouth of 
the Kenhawa, and familiarly acquainted even with the chil- 
dren. He usually ascended the river alone, in a bark ca- 
noe, and from the frequency and harmlessness of his visits, 
his appearance never excited the least alarm. A white man 
who had suffered much from the Indians, encountered the 
old chief one evening, alone upon the river, returning peace- 
ably from one of his usual visits. A conference ensued, 
which terminated in a quarrel, and the old man was killed 
upon the spot. The murderer, having scalped his victim, 
fixed the dead body in the usual sitting posture in the stern 
of the boat, replaced the pipe in his mouth, and launching 
the canoe again upon the river, permitted it to float down 
with its burden, undisturbed. Many settlers beheld it de- 
scending in this manner, but from the upright posture of the 
old man, they supposed that he was only returning as usual 
from a visit to the whites. The truth, however, was quickly 
discovered, and inflamed his tribe with the most ungoverna- 
ble rage. Vengeance was vowed for the outrage and am- 
ply exacted . 

At length, hostilities upon this remote frontier became so 
serious, as to demand the attention of government. One of 



APPENDIX 315 

the boldest of these forays, was conducted by Logan in per- 
son. Supposing that the inhabitants of the interior would 
consider themselves secure from the Indians, and neglect 
those precautions which were generally used upon the fron- 
tier, he determined, with a small but select band of follow- 
ers, to penetrate to the thick settlements upon the head wa- 
ters of the Monongahela, and wreak his vengeance upon its 
unsuspecting inhabitants. The march was conducted with 
the usual secrecy of Indian warriors, and with great effect. 
Many scalps and several prisoners were taken, with which 
by the signal conduct of their chief, they were enabled to 
elude all pursuit, and return in safety to their towns. One 
of the incidents attending this incursion, deserves to be men- 
tioned, as illustrating the character of Logan. While hov- 
ering, with his followers, around the skirts of a thick settle- 
ment, he suddenly came within view of a small field, recent- 
ly cleared, in which three men were pulling flax. Causing 
the greater part of his men to remain where they were, Lo- 
gan, together with two others, crept up within long shot of 
the white men and fired. One man fell dead, the remainino- 
two attempted to escape. The elder of the fugitives (Hel- 
lew,) was quickly overtaken and made prisoner by Logan's 
associates, while Logan himself, having thrown down his ri- 
fle, pressed forward alone in pursuit of the younger of the 
white men, whose name was Robinson. The contest was 
keen for several hundred yards, but Robinson, unluckily, 
looking around, in order to have a view of his pursuer, ran 
against a tree with such violence as completely to stun him, 
and render him insensible for several minutes. Upon re- 
covering, he found himself bound and lying upon his back, 
while Logan sat by his side, with unmoved gravity, awaiting 
his recovery. He was then compelled to accompany them 
in their further attempts upon the settlements, and in the 
course of a few days, was marched off with great rapidity 



316 APPENDIX. 

for their villages in Ohio. During the march, Logan re- 
mained silent and melancholy, probably brooding over the 
total destruction of his family. The prisoners, however, 
were treated kindly, until they arrived at an Indian village 
upon the Muskingum. When within a mile of the town, Lo- 
gan became more animated, and uttered the "scalp halloo" 
several times, in the most terrible tones. The never failing 
scene of insult and torture then began. Crowds flocked out 
to meet them, and a line was formed for the gauntlet. Lo- 
gan took no share in the cruel game, but did not attempt to 
repress it. He, however, gave Robinson, whom he regard- 
ed as his own prisoner, some directions as to the best means 
of reaching the council house in safety, and displayed some 
anxiety for his safe arrival, while poor Hellew was left in 
total ignorance, and permitted to struggle forward as he best 
could. Robinson, under the patronage of Logan, escaped 
with a few slight bruises, but Hellew, not knowing where to 
run, was dreadfully mangled, and would probably have been 
killed upon the spot, had not Robinson (not without great 
risk on his own part) seized him by the hand and dragged 
him into the council house. 

On the following morning, a council was called in order 
to determine their fate, in which Logan held a conspicuous 
superiority over all who were assembled. Hellew's destiny 
came first under discussion, and was quickly decided by an 
almost unanimous vote of adoption. Robinson's was most 
difficult to determine. A majority of the council, (partly 
influenced by a natural thirst for vengeance upon at least one 
object, partly, perhaps, by a lurking jealousy of the impo- 
sing superiority of Logan's character,) were obstinately bent 
upon putting him to death. Logan spoke for nearly an hour 
upon the question, and if Robinson is to be believed, with an 
energy, copiousness, and dignity, which would not have dis- 
graced Henry himself, He appeared at no loss for either 



APPENDIX. 317 

words or ideas, his tones were deep and musical, and were 
heard by the assembly with the silence of death. All, how- 
ever, was vain. Robinson was condemned, and within an 
hour afterwards, was fastened to the stake. Logan stood a- 
part from the crowd with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed 
upon the scene with an air of stern displeasure. When the 
fire was about to be applied, he suddenly strode into the cir- 
cle, pushing aside those who stood in the way, and advan- 
cing straight up to the stake, cut the cords with his toma- 
hawk, and taking the prisoner by the hand, led him with a 
determined air to his own wigwam. The action was so to- 
tally unexpected, and the air of the chief so determined, that 
he had reached the door of his wigwam before any one ven- 
tured to interfere. Much dissatisfaction was then expressed, 
and threatening symptoms of a tumult appeared, but so deep- 
ly rooted was his authority, that in a few hours all was qui- 
et, and Robinson, without opposition, was permitted to enter 
and Indian family. He remained with Logan until the trea- 
ty of Fort Pitt, in the autumn of the ensuing year, when he 
returned to Virginia. He ever retained the most unbound- 
ed admiration for Logan, and repeatedly declared that his 
countenance, when speaking, was the most striking, varied, 
and impressive, that he ever beheld. And when it is re- 
collected that he had often heard Lee and Henry, in all their 
glory, the compliment must be regarded as a very high one, 
This, together with various other marauding expeditions, 
generally carried on by small parties, determined the Gov- 
ernor of Virginia (Dunmore) to assemble a large force and 
carry the war into their own territories. The plan of the 
expedition was soon arranged. Three complete regiments 
were to be raised west of the Blue Ridge, under the com- 
mand of General Andrew Lewis; while an equal force, from 
the interior, was commanded by Dunmore in person. The 
armies were to form a junction at the moiith of the Great 

27* 



318 APPENDIX. 

Kenawha, and proceed together under Dunmore, to the In- 
dian towns in Ohio. On the 1st September, 1774, a part 
of Gen. Lewis' division, consisting of two regiments, under 
the orders of Col. Charles Lewis, his brother, and Col. Wil- 
liam Fleming, of Botetourt, rendezvoused at Camp Union, 
(now Lewisburg, Va.) where they were joined by an inde- 
pendent regiment of backwoods volunteers, under the orders 
of Col. John Fields, a very distinguished officer, who, togeth- 
er with most of those now assembled, had served under Brad- 
dock. Here they remained, awaiting the arrival of Col. 
Christian, who was busily engaged in assembling another 
regiment. By the junction of Field, Lewis' force amounted 
to about eleven hundred men, accustomed to danger, and 
conducted by the flower of the border officers. Gen. Lewis, 
as well as his brother, had been present at Braddock's defeat, 
and were subaltern officers in two companies of Virginia ri- 
flemen, who formed the advance of the English army. 

We shall here relate some circumstances attending that 
melancholy disaster, which are not to be found in the regu- 
lar histories of the period. Braddock's battle ground was a 
small bottom, containing not more than two acres, bounded 
on the erst by the Monongahela, and upon the west by a high 
cliff which rises precipitately above the bottom, and which, 
together with the river, completely enclosed it. Through 
this cliff, and near its centre, runs a deep gorge or ravine, 
the sides of which are nearly perpendicular, and the sum- 
mits of which were at that time thickly covered with tim- 
ber, rank grass and thickets of underwood. Upon this cliff, 
the Indian army lay in ambush, awaiting the arrival of their 
foe. The only passage for the English, lay through the ra- 
vine immediately in front of the ford. The two companies 
of rangers crossed the river in advance of the regulars, and 
suspecting no danger, immediately entered the mouth of the 
ravine* Braddock followed in close column, and the devo-' 



APPENDIX. 319 

ted army soon stood in the bottom already mentioned, the 
river in the rear, the cliffin front, and the ravine presenting 
the only practicable passage to the French fort. Instantly, 
a tremendous fire opened upon them from the cliffabove, and 
as the small bottom was thronged with red coats, immense 
execution was done. In the mean time, the two devoted com- 
panies of rangers were more than one hundred yards in front, 
and completely buried in the gorge already mentioned. Up- 
on hearing the firing in their rear, they attempted to rejoin 
the army, but a select corps of Indian warriors rushed down 
the steep banks of the ravine and blocked up the passage. 
A furious struggle ensued. The Indians could not possibly 
give way, as the banks were too steep to admit of retreat in 
that direction, and if they retired through the mouth of the 
ravine into the bottom below, they would have found them- 
selves in the midst of the English ranks. On the other hand, 
the Virginians were desperately bent upon rejoining their 
friends, which could only be done over the bodies of the In- 
dians. Thus the gorge became the theatre of a seperate 
battle, far more desperate than that which raged in the bot- 
tom or upon the cliffs. In these two companies, were to be 
found many names afterwards highly distinguished both in 
the Indian and British war. Here was General Lewis and his 
five brothers; Col. Matthews, afterwards so distinguished at 
Germantown, together with four of his brothers; Col. John 
Field, afterwards killed at Point Pleasant; Col. Grant, of 
Kentucky, John McDowell, and several others, afterwards 
well known in Virginia and Kentucky. The press was too 
great to admit of the rifle. Knives and tomahawks were 
their only weapons, and upon both sides (for the numbers en- 
gaged) the slaughter was prodigious. One half the Virgin- 
ians were left dead in the pass, and most of the survivors 
were badly wounded. The Indians suffered equally, and at 
length became so much thinned as to afford room for the Vir- 



320 APPENDIX. 

ginians to pass them and rejoin their friends below. There; 
all was dismay and death. Braddock, unable from the na- 
ture of the ground to charge with effect, and too proud to re- 
treat before an enemy whom he despised, was actively, and 
as calmly as if upon parade, laboring to form his troops un- 
der a fire which threatened to annihilate every thing within 
its range. The event is well known. 

Upon the fall of Braddock, the troops gave Way, and re- 
crossing the river, rejoined the rear guard of the army, af- 
ter a defeat, which then had no parallel in Indian warfare. 
Col. Lewis afterwards served as Major in Washington's re. 
giment, and ranked peculiarly high in the estimation of his 
illustrious commander. He accompanied Grant in his un- 
fortunate masquerade, and in a brave attempt with the colo- 
nial troops to retrieve the fortune of the day, was wounded 
and made prisoner by the French. While he and Grant were 
together at fort Du Quesne, upon parole, a quarrel took 
place between them, much to the amusement of the French. 
Grant, in his despatches, had made Lewis the scapegoat, and 
thrown the whole blame of the defeat upon him; whereas, 
in truth, the only execution that was done, was effected by 
his Virginia troops. The despatches fell into the hands of 
some Indians, who brought them to the French commandant. 
Captain Lewis happened to be present when they were open- 
ed, and was quickly informed of their contents. Without 
uttering a word, he instantly went in search of Grant, re- 
proached him with the falsehood, and putting his hand upon 
his sword, directed his former commander to draw and de- 
fend himself upon the spot. Grant contemptuously refused 
to comply, upon which Lewis lost all temper, cursed him for a 
liar and a coward, and in the presence of two French officers 
spat in his face ! Gen. Lewis' person considerably exceed- 
ed six feet in height, and was at once strongly and hand- 
somely formed. His countenance was manly and stern— 



APPENDIX. 321 

strongly expressive of that fearlessness and energy of char- 
acter which distinguished him through life. His manners 
were plain, cold, and unbending, and his conversation short, 
pithy, and touching only upon the "needful. 4 " At the gene- 
ral treaty with the Indian tribes in '63, Gen. Lewis was 
present, and his fine military appearance attracted great at- 
tention, and inspired somewhat of awe among the more pa- 
cific deputies. The Governor of New York declared that 
he "looked like the genius of the forest — and that the earth 
seemed to tremble beneath his footsteps." 

Such as we have described him, he was now placed at the 
head of one thousand men, with orders to meet Dunmore at 
Point Pleasant. Having waited several days at Lewisburgh 
for Col. Christian, without hearing from him, he determined 
no longer to delay his advance. On the 11th of September, 
he left Lewisburgh, and without any adventure of impor- 
tance, arrived at the concerted place of rendezvous. Dun- 
more had not yet arrived, and Lewis remained several days 
in anxious expectation of his approach. At length, he re- 
ceived despatches from the Governor, informing him that . 
he had changed his plan, and had determined to move di- 
rectly upon the Scioto villages, at the same time ordering 
Lewis to cross the Ohio and join him. Although not much 
gratified at this sudden change of a plan which had been de- 
liberately formed, Lewis prepared to obey, and had issued 
directions for the construction of rafts, boats, &c., in which 
to cross the Ohio, when, on the morning of the 10th Octo- 
ber, two of his hunters came running into camp, with the 
intelligence that a body of Indians was at hand, which cov- 
ered "four acres of ground." Upon this intelligence, the 
General (having first lit his pipe) directed his brother, Col. 
Charles Lewis, to proceed with his own regiment, and that 
of Col. Fleming, and reconnoitre the ground where the ene- 
my had been seen, while he held the remainder of the army 



322 APPENDIX. 

ready to support him. Col. Charles Lewis instantly advan- 
ced in the execution of his orders, and at the distance of a 
mile from camp, beheld a large body of the enemy advan- 
cing rapidly in the hope of surprising the Virginian camp. 
The sun was just rising as the rencontre took place, and in 
a few minutes the action became warm and bloody. Col. 
Charles Lewis being much exposed, and in full uniform, was 
mortally wounded early in the action, as was Col. Fleming 
the second in command. The troops having great confidence 
in Col. Lewis, were much discouraged, and being hard pres- 
sed by the enemy, at length gave way, and attempted to re- 
gain the camp. At this critical moment, Gen. Lewis order- 
ed up Field's regiment, which coming handsomely into ac- 
tion, restored the fortune of the day. The Indians, in turn, 
were routed, and compelled to retire to a spot where they 
had erected a rough breastwork of logs. 

The action was fought in the narrow point of land formed 
by the junction of the Ohio and Kenawha. The Indian 
breastwork was formed from one river to the other, so as to 
enclose the Virginians within the point, of course the breast- 
work formed the base, and the Virginian camp the vertex of 
the triangle, of which the rivers were sides. Here they 
rallied in full force, and appeared determined to abide the 
brunt of the Virginian force. Logan, Cornstalk, Elenipsico, 
Red Eagle, and many other celebrated chiefs were present, 
and were often heard loudly encouraging their warriors. 
Cornstalk, chief Sachem of the Shawanees, and leader of 
the northern confederacy, was particularly conspicuous. As 
the repeated efforts of the whites to carry the breastwork, 
became more warm and determined, the Indian line began 
to waver, and several were seen to give way. Cornstalk, 
in a moment, was upon the spot, and was heard distinctly to 
shout "Be strong ! Be strong !" in tones which rose above 
the din of the conflict. He buried his hatchet in the head 



APPENDIX. 323 

of one of his warriors, and indignantly shaming the rest, com- 
pletely restored the battle, which raged until four o'clock in 
the afternoon, without any decisive result. The Virginians 
fought with distinguished bravery, and suffered severely in 
those repeated charges upon the breastwork, but were una- 
ble to make any impression. The Indians, towards eve- 
ning, despatched a part of their force to cross both rivers, in 
order to prevent the escape of a man of the Virginians, should 
victory turn against them. 

At length, Gen. Lewis, alarmed at the extent of his loss, 
and the obstinacy of the enemy, determined to make an ef- 
fort to turn their flank with three companies, and attack 
them in rear. By the aid of a small stream, which empties 
into the Kenhawa, a short distance above its mouth, and 
which at that time had high and bushy banks, he was ena 
bled to gain their rear with a small force, commanded by 
Captain[(afterwards Governor) Isaac Shelby. Cornstalk in- 
stantly ordered a retreat, which was performed in a master- 
ly manner, and with a very slight loss, the Indians alternate- 
ly advancing and retreating in such a manner as to hold the 
whites in check, until dark, when the whole body disappear- 
ed. The loss of the Virginians was severe, and amounted 
in killed and wounded to one fourth of their whole number. 
The Indian loss was comparatively trifling. The action was 
shortly followed by a treaty, at which all the chiefs were 
present except Logan, who refused to be included in it. He 
wandered among the northwestern tribes, for several years, 
like a restless spirit, and finally, in utter recklessness, be- 
came strongly addicted to gaming and the use of ardent spir- 
its. He was at length murdered on a solitary journey from 
Detroit to the north eastern part of Ohio, as is generally sup- 
posed by his own nephew. 

It is not a little singular, that the three celebrated Indian 
chiefs who commanded in the battle at the Point, should all 



324 APPENDIX. 

have been murdered, and that two of them should have met 
their fate upon the same spot which had witnessed their 
brave efforts to repress the extension of the white settlements. 
Cornstalk and Elenipsico, his son, were killed during a friend- 
ly visit to Point Pleasant, in the summer of 1775, only a 
few months after the action. The circumstances attending 
the affair are thus related hy Col. Stewart: 

"A Captain Arbuckle commanded the garrison of the fort 
erected at Point Pleasant after the battle fought by General 
Lewis with the Indians at that place, in October, 1774. In 
the succeeding year, when the revolutionary war had com- 
menced, the agents of Great Britain exerted themselves to 
excite the Indians to hostility against the United States. The 
mass of the Shawanees entertained a strong animosity a 
gainst the Americans. But, two of their chiefs. Cornstalk 
and Red Hawk, not participating in that animosity, visited 
the garrison at the Point, where Arbuckle continued to com- 
mand. Col. Stewart was at the post in the character of a 
volunteer, and was an eye-witness of the facts which he re- 
lates. Cornstalk represented his unwillingness to take a 
part in the war, on the British side : but stated, that his na- 
tion, except himself and his tribe, were determined on war 
with us, and he supposed, that he and his people would be 
compelled to go with the stream. On this intimation, Arbuc- 
kle resolved to detain the two chiefs, and a third Shawanees 
who came with them to the fort, as hostages, under the ex- 
pectation of preventing thereby any hostile efforts of the na- 
tion. On the day before these unfortunate Indians fell vic- 
tims to the fury of the garrison, Elenipsico, the son of Corn- 
stalk, repaired to Point Pleasant for the purpose of visiting 
his father, and on the next day, two men belonging to the 
garrison., whose names were Hamilton and Gillmore, cros- 
sed the Kenawha, intending to hunt in the woods beyond 
it. On their return from hunting, some Indians who had 



APPENDIX. 325 

come to view the position at the Point, concealed themselves 
in the weeds near the mouth of the Kenhawa, and killed Gill- 
more while endeavoring to pass them. Col. Stewart and 
Capt. Arbuckle were standing on the opposite bank of the 
river at that time, and were surprized that a gun had been 
fired so near the fort, in violation of orders which had been 
issued inhibiting such an act. Hamilton ran down the bank, 
and cried out that Gillmore was killed. Captain Hall com- 
manded the company to which Gillmore belonged. His 
men leaped into a canoe, and hastened to the relief of Ham- 
ilton. They brought the body of Gillmore weltering in blood, 
and the head scalped, across the river. The canoe had 
scarcely reached the shore, when Hall's men cried out "let 
us kill the Indians in the fort." Captain Hall placed him- 
self in front of his soldiers, and they ascended the river's 
bank pale with rage, and carrying their loaded firelocks 
in their hands. Colonel Stuart and Captain Arbuckle exer- 
ted themselves in vain, to dissuade these men, exasperated 
to madness by the spectacle of Gillmore's corpse, from the 
cruel deed which they contemplated. They cocked their 
guns, threatening those gentlemen with instant death, if they 
did not desist, and rushed into the fort. 

The interpreter's wife, who had been a captive among the 
Indians, and felt an affection for them, ran to their cabin 
and informed them that Hall's soldiers were advancing, with 
the intention of taking their lives, because they believed, 
that the Indians who killed Gillmore, had come with Corn* 
stalk's son on the preceding day. This the young man so- 
lemnly denied, and averred that he knew nothing of them. 
His father, perceiving that Elenipsico was in great agitation, 
encouraged him and advised him not to fear. "If the great 
Spirit, said he, has sent you here to be killed, you ought to 
-die like a man i" As the soldiers approached the door, Corn- 
stalk rose to meet them, and received seven or eight balls 

28 



326 APPENDIX. 

which instantly terminated his existence. His son was shot 
dead, in the seat which he occupied. The Red-hawk made 
an attempt to climb the chimney, but fell by the fire of some 
of Hall's men. The other Indian, says Colonel Stuart, 
"was shamefully mangled, and I grieved to see him so long 
dying. 1 ' 



B. 



ST. CLAIR'S OFFICIAL LETTER. 

"Fort Washington, Xov. 9, 1791 

"Sir: 

"Yesterday afternoon the remains of the army under 
my command got back to this place, and I have now the 
painful task to give an account of a warm, and as unfortu- 
nate an action as almost any that has been fought, in which 
every corps was engaged and worsted, except the first regi- 
ment, that had been detached upon a service that I had the 
honor to inform you of in my last despatch, and had not join- 
ed me. 

"On the 3d inst. the army had reached a creek about 
twelve yards wide running to the southward of west, which 
I believe to have been the river St. Mary, that empties into 
the Miami of the lake, arrived at the village about 4 o'clock 
in the afternoon, having marched near nine miles, and were 
immediately encamped upon a very commanding piece of 
ground in two lines, having the above mentioned creek in 
front. The right wing, composed of Butler, Clark and Pat- 
terson^ battalions, commanded by Major General Butler, 
formed the first line; and the left wing, consisting of Beding- 
er and Gaither's battalions, and the second regiment com- 
manded by Col. Darke, formed the second line, with an in- 



APPENDIX. 327 

terval between them of about severity yards, which was all 
the ground would allow. 

4; The right flank was pretty well secured by the creek, a 
steep bank, and Faulkner's corps. Some of the cavalry 
and their piquets covered the left flank. The militia were 
sent over the creek and advanced about one quarter of a mile, 
and encamped in the same order. There were a few Indi- 
ans who appeared on the opposite side of the creek, but fled 
with the utmost precipitation on the advance of the militia. 
At this place, which I judged to be about fifteen miles from 
the Miami villages, 1 had determined to throw up a slight 
work, the plan of which was concerted that evening with 
Major Ferguson, wherein to have deposited the men's knap- 
sacks, and every thing else that was not of absolute necessi- 
ty, qnd to have moved on to attack the enemy as soon as the 
first regiment w 7 as come up, but they did not permit me to 
execute either; for on the 4th, about half an hour before sun 
rise, and when the men had been just dismissed from the pa- 
rade, (for it was a constant practice to have them all under 
der arms a considerable time before day-light,) an attack 
was made upon the militia, who gave way in a very little 
time, and rushed into camp through Major Butler's battal- 
ion, which, together with part of Clark's, they threw into 
considerable disorder, and which, notwithstanding the exer- 
tions of both these officers, was never altogether remedied. 
The Indians followed close at their heels ; the fire, however, 
of the front line checked them ; but almost instantaneously a 
very heavy attack began upon that line, and in a few min- 
utes it was extended to the second likewise. The great 
weight of it was directed against the centre of each, where 
the artillery was placed, and from which the men were re- 
peatedly driven with great slaughter. Finding no great ef- 
fect from the fire, and confusion beginning to spread from the 



328 APPENDIX. 

great number of men who were fallen in all quarters, it be- 
came necessary to try what could be done with the bayonet. 

"Lieut. Col. Darke was accordingly ordered to make a 
charge, with a part of the second line, and to turn the left 
flank of the enemy. This was executed with great spirit, 
and at first promised much success. The Indians instantly 
gave way, and were driven back three or four hundred yards ; 
but for want of a sufficient number of riflemen to pursue this 
advantage, they soon returned, and the troops were obliged 
to give back in their turn. At this moment they had enter- 
ed our camp by the left flank, having pursued back the 
troops that were posted there. 

"Another charge was made here by the second regiment, 
Butler and Clarke's battalions, with equal effect, and it was 
repeated several times, and always with success; but iu all 
of them many men were lost, and particularly the officers, 
which, with some raw troops, was a loss altogether irreme- 
diable. In that I just spoke of made by the second regiment, 
and Butler's battalion, Major Butler was dangerously woun- 
ded, and every officer of the second regiment fell except 
three, one of which, Capt. Greaton, was shot through the 
body. 

"Our artillery being now silenced, and all the officers kil- 
led except Captain Ford, who was badly wounded, more 
than half of the army fallen, being cut off from the road, it 
became n333ssary to attempt the regaining it, and to make 
a retreat if possible. To this purpose the remains of the ar- 
my was formed as well as circumstances would admit, to- 
wards the right of the encampment; from which, by the way 
of the second line, another charge was made upon the ene- 
my, as if with the design of turning their right flank, but it 
was in fact to gain the road. This was effected, and as soon 
as it was open the militia entered it, followed by the troops h 
Major Clark with his battalion covering the rear. 



APPEfmtx. 329 

"The retreat in those circumstances was, you may be sure, 
a precipitate one. It was in fact a flight. The camp and 
the artillery were abandoned; but that was unavoidable, for 
not a horse was left alive to have drawn itoffhad it otherwise 
been practicable. But the most disgraceful part of the bu- 
siness is, that the greatest part of the men threw away their 
arms and accoutrements, even after the pursuit (which con- 
tinued about four miles) had ceased. 

u l found the road strewed with them for many miles, but 
was not able to remedy it; for having had all my horses kil- 
led, and being mounted upon one that could not be pricked 
out of a walk, I could not get forward myself; and the or- 
ders 1 sent forward either to halt the front or prevent the men 
from parting with their arms, were unattended to. 

"The route continued quite to fort Jefferson, twenty-nine 
miles, which was reached a little after sunset. The action 
began about half an hour before sun-rise, and the retreat was 
attempted at half past nine o'clock. 

"I have not yet been able to get the returns of the killed 
and wounded ; but Major Gen. Butler, Lieut. Col. Oldham, 
of the militia, Majors Ferguson, Hart and Clark, are among 
the former. 

"I have now, Sir, finished my melancholy tale; a tale 
that will be felt, sensibly felt, by every one that has sympathy 
for private distress, or for public misfortune. I have noth- 
ing, Sir, to lay to the charge of the troops but their want of 
discipline, which, from the short time they had been in ser- 
vice, it was impossible they should have acquired, and which 
rendered it very difficult, when they were thrown into con- 
fusion,. to reduce them again to order, and is one reason why 
the loss has fallen so heavy upon the officers, who did every 
thing in their power to effect it. Neither were my own ex- 
ertions wanting, but worn down with illness, and suffering 
under a painful disease, unable either to mount or dismount 

28* 



330 APPENDIX. 

a horse without assistance, they were not so great as they 
otherwise would, or perhaps ought to have been. 

"We 'were overpowered by numbers; but it is no more 
than justice to observe, that though composed of so many 
different species of troops, the utmost harmony prevailed 
through the whole army during the campaign. 

"At fort Jefferson I found the first regiment, which had re- 
turned from the service they had been sent upon, without ei 
ther overtaking the deserters or meeting the convoy of pro- 
visions, lam not certain, Sir, whether I ought to consider 
the absence of this regiment from the field of action as for- 
tunate; for I very much doubt, whether, had it been in the ac- 
tion, the fortune of the day would have been turned; and if 
it had not, the triumph of the enemy would have been more 
complete, and the country would have been destitute of 
means of defence. 

"Taking a view of the situation of our broken troops at 
fort Jefferson, and that there was no provisions in the fort, I 
called on the field officers for their advice what would be pro- 
per further to be done; and it was their unanimous opinion, 
that the addition of the first regiment, unbroken as it was, 
did not put the army on so respectable a footing as it was in 
the morning, because a great part of it was now unarmed ; 
that it had been found unequal to the enemy, and should 
they come on, which was probable, would be found so again; 
that the troops could not be thrown into the fort, because it 
was too small, and there was no provision in it; that provis- 
ions were known to be upon the road at the distance of one 
or at most two marches; that therefore it would be proper to 
move without loss of time to meet the provisions, when the 
men might have the sooner an opportunity of some refresh- 
ment, and that a proper detachment might be sent back with 
it, to have it safely deposited in the fort. 

"This advice was accepted, and the army was put in mo* 



APPENDIX. 331 

tion at ten o'clock, and marched all night, and the succeed- 
ing day met with a quantity of flour; part of it was distri- 
buted immediately, part taken back to supply the army on 
the march to fort Hamilton, and the remainder, about fifty 
horse loads, sent forward to fort Jefferson. 

"I have said, Sir, in the former part of my communica- 
tion, that we were overpowered by numbers; of that, howev- 
er, I had no other evidence but the weight of the fire, which 
was always a most deadly one, and generally delivered from 
the ground, few of the enemy showing themselves on foot y 
except when they were charged, and that in a few minutes 
our whole camp, which extended above three hundred and 
fifty yards in length, was entirely surrounded and attacked 
on all quarters. 

"The loss, Sir, the public has sustained by the fall of so 
many officers, particularly Gen. Butler, and Major Fergu- 
son, cannot be too much regretted ; but it is a circumstance 
that will alleviate the misfortune in some measure, that all 
of them fell most gallantly doing their duty. I have the 
honor to be, Sir, your most obedient servant. 

'ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
"Hox Secretary of War." 

Upon a review of the chapter containing St. Clair's de- 
feat, the author is aware that he will probably be charged 
with undue partiality, and perhaps with a misstatement of 
facts, particularly as it relates to the force of the Indian ar- 
my. Mr* Marshall, in his life of Washington, reduces the 
Indian force to an equality with St. Clair, and Mr. Marshall, 
of Kentucky, appears to be of the same opinion. That chapter 
was written before I had particularly referred to these excel- 
lent authorities, and my own statement of the Indian force 
was taken from a book entitled ''Indian Wars," which pro- 
fesses to have derived it from the acknowledgement of the 
Indians themselves. Upon reflection,! am satisfied that the 



332 



APPENDIX. 



gentlemen above mentioned are correct, and only regret 
that the error into which I was led by insufficient authority,, 
cannot now be remedied. In a private letter from Colonel 
McKee, the Indian agent, to Col. England, at Detroit, the 
Indian force assembled at the "Fallen Timber" a few days 
before the battle, is estimated at "one thousand men!" The 
letter concludes with an earnest demand for reinforcements! 
Ten days afterwards, the battle was fought, within which pe- 
riod, it is difficult to believe, that large reinforcements could 
arrive from the upper lakes, the only source from which they 
were expected. It is absolutely certain, that the Indian 
force opposed to Wayne did not exceed fifteen hundred men, 
although their whole strength was assembled. From this da- 
ta, it would seem impossible that the force employed against 
St. Clair (more hastily collected and at shorter warning) 
could have exceeded twelve or fifteen hundred men. Mr. 
Marshall, although evidently disposed to do that unfortunate 
gentleman every justice, is, nevertheless, tolerably severe 
in his strictures upon the order of battle. He particularly 
censures him for posting the militia in front, in order to re- 
ceive the first shock, and contends that they should have 
been formed in the centre of the square, in order to rein- 
force such parts of the line as gave way. This, as the 
event turned out, would probably have been better than the 
measure actually adopted, but St. Clair, at the time, only 
conformed to the rule then established, and universally prac- 
tised. Militia were always advanced in front of regulars, 
and never incorporated with them. This was uniformly 
done by Washington, by Greene, (except upon one occasion, 
when he placed them in the rear as a reserve, and when 
they were wanted, found them too much frightened to be of 
any use,) and by every General who employed them. We 
criticise St. Clair by the light of forty year's additional expe; 
rience in Indian warfare, which at the time of his defeat 



APPENDIX, 333 

was not as well understood, at least so far as relates to the 
employment of regulars, as now. The close encampment 
of the troops was certainly highly improper, as battle was 
expected, and for battle he should have been always pre- 
pared. For the rest, we can see no room for blame. That 
no general charge was made is true, for the simple reason, 
that the troops being totally raw, could not be brought to 
unite in one, although every possible exertion was made by 
officers, as brave and intelligent as any in America. And, 
even if one could have been made, there is every reason to 
believe, that the event of the action would have been the 
same. The Indians would have given way, but their retrea- 
ting fire was as fatal as any other, and had the regulars fol- 
lowed throughout the day, they could not have overtaken 
them, and without a sufficient body of cavalry, could have 
made no impression upon so light footed and irregular an en- 
emy. That a general charge succeeded under Wayne is 
true, but how different were the circumstances. Wayne 
was the assailant — St. Clair was attacked suddenly and un- 
der great disadvantages. Wayne more than doubled his en- 
emy in numbers, St. Clair was at best only equal to his, and 
what made an incalculable difference, Wayne was in pos- 
session of a powerful body of mounted men, who alone ex- 
ceeded the whole body of Indians in the field. Here, ad- 
vantages gained by the bayonet, could be pressed by a nu- 
merous cavalry. The Indians were aware of all these cir- 
cumstances; they beheld the movement of the mounted men, 
in order to turn their position, and finding themselves charg- 
ed in their coverts, instantly fled, but whether from fear of 
the bayonets of the infantry, or the more rapid movements 
of horse, is a question which might admit of discussion- 
Had Wayne encountered them with the bayonet alone, they 
would (as in St. Clair's case) have fled, but like the ancient 
Parthians, their flight would have been as fatal as their ad- 



334 APPENDIX. 

vance. I have not the slightest disposition to detract from 
the well merited fame of Wayne. His whole movements 
during the campaign, displayed a boldness, vigor, and decis- 
ion, which the miserable decrepitude of St. Clair forbade 
him to exert; but it cannot be denied, that he fought with 
means incomparably beyond those of his predecessor. 

N. B. Gen. St. Clair was of opinion that his defeat oc- 
curred upon the St. Mary^s, and by an inadvertence, it is so 
stated in the text. It is incorrect. The action was fought 
upon a small tributary stream of the Wabash. 



•'o* 



C. 
INDIAN MANNERS. 

THE CHACE. 

The following numbers are chiefly collected from Lewis & 
Clarke and Major Long^s Journal: 

"When the trading and planting occupations of the peo- 
ple are terminated, and provisions begin to fail them, which 
occurs generally in June, the chiefs assemble a council for 
the purpose of deliberating^ upon farther arrangements ne- 
cessary to be made. This assembly decrees a feast to be pre- 
pared, on a certain day, to which all the distinguished men 
of the nation are to be invited, and one of their number is 
appointed to have it prepared in his own lodge. On the re- 
turn of this individual to his dwelling, he petitions his squaws 
to have pity on him, and proceed to clean and adjust the de- 
partment ; to spread the mats and skins for seats, and to col- , 
leot woody and bring water for cooking. He requests them 



APPENDIX. 335 

to provide three or four large kettles, to prepare the maize, 
and to kill their fatest dog for a feast. The squaws gener- 
ally murmur at this last proposition, being reluctant to sae- 
rifice these animals, which are of great service to them in 
carrying burdens, like the dogs of the erratic Tartars: but 
when they are informed of the honor that awaits them, of 
feasting all the distinguished men, they undertake their du- 
ties with pride and satisfaction. 

" When they have performed their part, the squaws give 
notice to the husband, who then calls two or three old public 
criers to his lodge. He invites them to be seated near him, 
and after the ceremony of smoking, he addresses them in a 
low voice, directing them to pass through the village, and in- 
vite the individuals, whom he names to them, to honor him 
by their presence, at the feast which is now prepared. 'Speak 
in a low voice,' says he, 'and tell them to bring their bowls 
and spoons.' The criers, having thus received their instruc- 
tions, sally out together, and, in concert,' sing aloud, as they 
pass in various directions through the village. In this song 
of invitation, the names of all the elect are mentioned. Hav- 
ing performed this duty, they return to the lodge, and are 
soon followed by the chiefs and warriors. Tl e host seats 
himself in the back part of the lodge, facing the entrance, 
where he remains during the ceremony. If the host is in- 
vested with the dignity of chief, he directs those who enter 
where to seat themselves, so that the chiefs may be arran- 
ged on one side, and the warriors on the other: if he is a war- 
rior, he seats the principal chiefs of the village by his side, 
who whisper in his ear the situation which those who enter 
ought to occupy : this intimation is repeated aloud by the 
host, when the guests are all arranged, the pipe is lighted, and 
the indispensable ceremony of smoking succeeds. 

"The principal chief then rises, and extending his expan- 
ded hand towards each in succession, gives thanks to them 



336 APPENDIX. 

individually, by name, for the honor of their company, and 
requests their patient attention to what he is about to say. 
He then proceeds, somewhat in the following manner: — 
'Friends and relatives, we are assembled here for the pur- 
pose of consulting respecting the proper course to pursue in 
our next hunting excursion, or whether the quantity of pro- 
visions, at present on hand, will justify a determination to 
remain here, to weed our maize.' If it be decided to depart 
immediately, the subject to be then taken into view, will be 
the direction, extent and object of the route. 

"Having thus disclosed the business of the council, li£ is 
frequently succeeded by an old chief, who thanks him for 
his attention to their wants, and advises the assembly to pay 
great attention to what he has said, as he is a man of truth, 
of knowledge and bravery. He further assures them, that 
they have ample cause to return thanks to the Great Wah- 
conda, for having sent such a man among them. 

"The assembly then takes the subject into their considera 
tion, and, after much conversation, determine upon a route, 
which the principal chief proposed in a speech. This chief, 
previous to the council, is careful to ascertain the opinions 
and wishes of his people, and speaks accordingly. 

"He sometimes, however, meets with opposition, from per- 
sons whe propose other hunting grounds: but their discour- 
ses are filled with compliments to his superior knowledge 
and good sense. The proceedings of the council are uni- 
formly conducted with the most perfect good order, and de- 
corum. 

"Each speaker carefully abstains from militating against 
the sensibility of any of his hearers : and uncourteous com- 
pressions towards each other, on these occasions, are never 
heard. Generally, at each pause of the speaker, the audi- 
ence testify their approbation, aloud, by the interjection heh ; 
and as they believe that he has a just rigid to his own opin- 



APPENDIX. 337 

ions, however absurd they may appear to be, and opposite to 
their own, the expression of them excites no reprehension; 
and, if they cannot approve, they do not condemn, unless ur- 
ged by necessity. 

"The day assigned for their departure having arrived, the 
squaws load their horses and dogs, and place as great a 
weight upon their own backs as they can conveniently trans- 
port; and after having closed the entrances to their several 
habitations, by placing a considerable quantity of brush- 
wood before them, the whole nation departs from the village. 

"The men scatter about in every direction, to reconnoitre 
the country for enemies and game; but notwithstanding the 
constant activity of the hunters, the people often endure se- 
vere privation of food, previously to their arrival within 
view of the bisons, an interval of fifteen or twenty days. 

"On coming in sight of the herd, the hunters speak kind- 
ly to their horses; applying to them the endearing name of 
father, brother, uncle, &c. ; they petition them not to fear 
the buffalos, but to run well, and keep close to them, but at 
the same time to avoid being gored. The party having ap- 
proached as near to the herd as they suppose the animals 
will permit, without taking the alarm, they halt, to give the 
pipe bearer an opportunity of smoking; which is considered 
necessary to their success. He lights his pipe, and remains 
a short time with his head inclined, and the stem of the pipe 
extended towards the herd. He then smokes, and puffs the 
smoke towards the buffalos, towards the heavens and the 
earth, and finally to the cardinal points successively. These 
last they distinguish by the terms, sunrise, sunset, cold coun- 
try, and warm country ; or they designate them collectively 
by the phrase of the four winds. 

"The ceremony of smoking being performed, the word for 
starting is given by the principal chief. They immediately 
separate into two bands, who pass in full speed to the right 

29 



338 APPENDIX. 

and left, and perform a considerable circuit, with the object 
of enclosing the herd, at a considerable interval between 
them. They then close in upon the animals, and each man 
endeavors to kill as many of them as his opportunity permits. 

"It is upon this occasion, that the Indians display their 
horsemanship, and dexterity in archery. Whilst in full run, 
they discharge the arrow with an aim of much certainty, so 
that it penetrates the body of the animal behind the shoul- 
der. If it should not bury itself so deeply as they wish, 
they are often known to ride up to the enraged animal and 
withdraw it. They observe the direction and depth to which 
the arrow enters, in order to ascertain whether or not the 
wound is mortal, of which they can judge with a considera- 
ble degree of exactness; when a death wound is inflicted 
the hunter raises a shout of exultation, to prevent others 
from pursuing the individual of which he considers himself 
certain. He then passes on in pursuit of another, and so on 
until his quiver is exhausted, or the game has fled beyond 
his farther pursuit. 

"The force of the arrow, when discharged by a dexter- 
ous and athletic Indian, is very great, and w r e were even 
credibly informed, that under favorable circumstances, it 
has been known to pass entirely through the body of a buf- 
falo, and actually to fly some distance, or fall to the ground, 
on the opposite side of the animal.' 

"Notwithstanding the apparent confusion of this engage- 
ment, and that the same animal is sometimes feathered by 
arrows from different archers before he is despatched, or 
considered mortally w T ounded, yet, as each man knows his 
own arrows from all others, and can also estimate the na- 
ture of the wound, whether it would produce a speedy death 
to the animal, quarrels respecting the right of property in 
the prey seldom occur, and it is consigned to the more for- 
tunate individual, whose weapon penetrated the most vital 



appendix. 339 

part. The chace having terminated, each Indian can trace 
back his devious route to the starting place, so as to recover 
any small article he may have lost. 

"A fleet horse, well trained to hunt, runs at the proper 
distance, with the reins thrown upon his neck, parallel with 
, the buffalo, turns as he turns, and docs not cease to exert his 
speed until the shoulder of the animal is presented, and the 
fatal arrow is implanted there. He then complies with the 
motion of his rider, who leans to one side in order to direct 
his cours to another buffalo. Such horses as these are re. 
served by their owners exclusively for the chase, and are 
but rarely subjected to the drudgery of carrying burdens. 

"When the herd has escaped, and those that are only woun- 
ded, or disabled, are secured, the hunters proceed to flay 
and cut up the slain. 

"Every eatable part of the animal is carried to the camp, 
and preserved, excepting the feet and the head, but the 
brains are taken from the skull, for the purpose of dressing 
the skin, or converting it into Indian leather." 

In descending the Ontonagon river, which falls into Lake 
Superior, Mr. Schoolcraft says: "Our Indian guides stopped 
on the east side of the river to examine a bearfall that had 
been previously set, and were overjoyed to find a large bear 
entrapped. As it was no great distance from the river, we 
all landed to enjoy the sight. The animal sat up on his 
fore paws, facing us, the hinder paws being pressed to the 
ground by a heavy weight of logs, which had been arranged 
in such a manner as to allow the bear to creep under, and 
when, by seizing the bait, he had sprung the trap, he could 
not extricate himself, although with his forepaws he had de- 
molished a part of the works. After viewing him for some 
time, a ball was fired through his head, but did not kill him. 
The bear kept his position, and seemed to growl in defiance. 
A second ball was aimed at the heart, and took effect ; but he 



340 



APPENDIX. 



did not resign the contest immediately, and was at last des- 
patched with an axe. As soon as the bear fell, one of the 
Indians walked up, and addressing him by the name of Muck- 
wah, shook him by the paw with a smiling countenance, say- 
ing in the Indian language, he was sorry he had been under 
the necessity of killing him, and hoped the offence would 
be forgiven, particularly as Long-Knife* had fired one of the 
balls."f 

THEIR DANCES. 

All their dances are distinguished by appropriate names, 
such as the war dance — the scalp dance — the buffalo dance 
— the beggar's dance, &c. 

In Major Long's Journal, the beggar's dance is thus de- 
scribed: "About one hundred Ottoes, together with a depu- 
tation of the loway nation, who had been summoned by Ma- 
jor O'Fallon, (Indian agent for the government of the United 
States.) presented themselves at our camp. The principal 
chiefs advanced before their people, and, upon invitation sea- 
ted themselves. After a short interval of silence, Shonga- 
Tonga, the Big horse, a large, portly Indian, of a command- 
ino- presence, arose, and said: 'My father, your children 
have come to dance before your tent, agreeably to our cus- 
tom of honoring brave or distinguished persons.' After a 
suitable reply from Maj. OTallon, the amusement of dan- 
cing was commenced, by the striking up of their rude in- 
strumental and vocal music, the former consisting of a gong 
made of a large keg, over one end of which a skin was 
stretched, which was struck by a small stick; and another 
instrument consisting of a stick of firm wood, notched like 
a saw, over the teeth of which a smaller stick was rubbed 
forcibly backward and forward. With these, rude as they 
were, very good time was preserved with the vocal perform , 
*An American. fSchoolcraiVs Journal, p 183. 



APPENDIX. 341 

mers, who sat around them; and by all the natives as they 
sat, in the inflection of their bodies, or the movements of 
their limbs. After the lapse of a little time, three individu- 
als leaped up, and danced around for a few minutes; then, 
at a concerted signal from the master of ceremonies, the 
music ceased and they retired to their seats, uttering a loud 
noise, which by patting the mouth rapidly with the hand, 
was broken into a succession of similar sounds, somewhat 
like the hurried barking of a dog. Several sets of dancers 
succeeded, each terminating as the first. In the intervals 
of the dances, a warrior would step forward and strike a flag 
staff they had erected, with a stick, whip or other weapon, 
and recount his martial deeds. This ceremony is called 
"striking the post, 1 '* and whatever is then said may be re- 
lied on as truth, being delivered in the presence of many a 
jealous warrior and witness, who could easily detect, and 
would immediately disgrace the striker, for exaggeration and 
falsehood. This is called the beggars dance, during which 
some presents are always expected by the performers; as 
tobacco, whiskev or trinkets. But, on this occasion, as 
none of these articles were immediately offered, the amuse- 
ment was not, at first, distinguished by much activity. The 
master of ceremonies continually called aloud to them, to 
exert themselves; but still they were somewhat dull and 
backward. Ietan (the master of ceremanies,) now stepped 
forward, and lashed a post with his whip, declaring, that he 
would thus punish those who would not dance. This threat 
from one whom they had vested with authority for this oc- 
casion, had a manifest effect upon his auditors, who were 
presently highly wrought up, by the sight of two or three 
little mounds of tobacco twists, which were now laid before 
them, and appeared to infuse new life. After lashing the 
post, and making his threat, Ietan went on to relate his mar- 

*Of this an explanation will hereafter be given. 

29* 



342 APPENDIX. 

tial exploits. He had stolen horses, seven or eight times.,* 
from the Konzus ; he had first struck the bodies of three of 
that nation, slain in battle. He had stolen horses from the 
Ietan nation, and had struck one of their dead. He had sto- 
len horses from the Pawanees, and struck the body of one 
Pawanee Loup. He had stolen horses several times from 
the Omawhaws, and once from the Pimcas. He had struck 
the bodies of two Sioux. On a war party, in company with 
the Pawanees, he had attacked the Spaniards, and penetra- 
ted into one of their camps. The Spaniards, except a man 
and a boy, fled. He was at a distance before his party, and 
was shot at, and missed, by the man, whom he immediately 
shot down and struck. 'This, my father,' said he, 'is the on- 
ly martial art of my life that 1 am ashamed of.' After seve- 
ral rounds of dancing, and of striking at the post, the 
Miaketa, or the little soldier, a war worn veteran, took his 
turn to strike the post. He leaped actively about, and 
strained his voice to the utmost pitch, while he pourtrayed 
some of the scenes of blood in which he had acted. He had 
struck dead bodies of all the red nations around, Osages, 
Konzas, Pawnee Loups, Pawnee Republicans, Grand Paw- 
nees, Puncas, Omawhaws, Sioux, Paducas, La Plais, or 
Baldheads, Ietans, Sacs, Foxes, and Ioways. He had struck 
eight of one nation, seven of another, &c. He was procee- 
ding with his account, when Ietan ran up to him, put his 
hand upon his mouth, and respectfully led him to his seat. 
This act was no trifling compliment, paid to the well known 
brave. It indicated, that he had still so many glorious acts 
to speak of, that he would occupy so much time as to prevent 
others from speaking, and put to sname the other warriors, 
by the contrast of his actions with theirs. 

"Their physical action is principally confined to leaping 
a small distance from the ground, with both feet, the body 
being slightly inclined; and, upon alighting, an additional 



APPENDIX 343 

slight, but sudden inclination of the body is made so as to 
appear like a succession of jerks; or the feet are raised alter- 
nately, the motions of the body being the same. Such are 
their movements, in which the whole party corresponds; but 
in the figures, as they are termed, in our assembly rooms, 
each individual performs a separate part, and each partis a 
significant pantomimic narrative. In all their variety of ac- 
tion, they are careful to observe the musical cadences. In 
this dance, Ietan represents one who was in the act of steal- 
ing horses. He carried a whip in his hand, as did a consid- 
erable number of the Indians, and around his neck were 
thrown several leathern thongs, for bridles, and halters, the 
ends of which trailed upon the ground behind him. After 
many preparatory manoeuvres, he stooped down, and with 
his knife, represented the act of cutting the hopples of hor- 
ses : he then rode his tomahawk, as children ride their broom- 
sticks, making such use of his whip, as to indicate the ne- 
cessity of rapid movement, lest his foes should overtake him. 
Wa-sa-ba-jing-ga, or Little Black Bear, after a variety of ges- 
tures, threw several arrows, in succession^ over his head, 
thereby indicating his familiarity with the flight of such mis- 
siles; he, at the same time, covered his eyes with his hand, 
to indicate that he was blind to danger. Others represent- 
ed their manoeuvres in battle, seeking their enemy, dischar- 
ging at him their guns and arrows, &c. &c. Most of the 
dancers were the principal warriors of the nation, men who 
had not condescended to amuse themselves, or others, in this 
manner, for years before; but they now appeared in honor 
of the occasion, and to conciliate,- in their best manner, the 
good will of the representative of the government of the 
Big knives.* 

"Among these veteran warriors, Ietan, or Shamonekussee, 
Hashea, the Broken Arm, commonly called Cutnose, and 

*The appellation by which the Indians distingush the whites of the U. Status. 



344 APPENDIX, 

Wasabajinga, or Little Black Bear, three youthful leader^ 
in par;icular attracted our attention* In consequence of ha- 
ving been appointed soldiers on this occasion to preserve or- 
der, they were painted entirely black. The countenance of 
the former indicated much wit, and had, in its expression, 
something of the character of that of Voltaire. He frequent- 
ly excited the mirth of those about him by his remarks and 
gestures. Hashea, called Cutnose, in consequence of hav- 
ing lost the tip of his nose in a quarrel with Ietan, wore a 
handsome robe of white wolf skin, with an appendage be- 
hind him called a crow. This singular decoration is a lar^e 
cushion, made of the skin of a crow, stuffed with any light 
material, and variously ornamented. It has two decorated 
sticks projecting from it upward, and a pendent one beneath. 
This apparatus is secured upon the buttocks, by a girdle pas- 
sing round the body. The other actors in the scene were de- 
corated with paints, of several colors, fantastically disposed 
upon their persons. Several were painted with white clay, 
which had the appearance of being grooved in many places. 
This grooved appearance is given, by drawing the finger 
nails over the part, so as to remove the pigment from thence, 
in parallel lines. These lines are either rectilinear, undula- 
ted, or zigzag: sometimes passing over the forehead trans- 
versely, or vertically; sometimes in the same directions, or 
obliquely over the whole visage, or upon the breast, arms, 
&,c. Many were painted with red clay, in which the same 
lines appeared. A number of them had the representation 
of a black hand, with outspread fingers, on different parts of 
the body, strongly contrasted with the principal color with 
which which the body was overspread; the hand was depict- 
ed in different positions upon the face, breast, and back. The 
face« of others were colored one half black, and the other 
white, &c. Many colored their hair with red clay; but the 
eyelids and base of the ears, were generally tinged with ver. 



APPENDIX, 345 

million. At the conclusion of the ceremony, whiskey, which 
they always expect on similar occasions, was produced, and 
a small portion given to each. The principal chiefs of the 
different nations, who had remained passive spectators of the 
scene, now directed their people to return to their camp. 
The word of the chiefs was obeyed, except by a few of the 
Ioways, who appeared to be determined to keep their places, 
notwithstanding the reiterated command of the chiefs. Ie- 
tan now sprang towards them, with an expression of much 
ferocity in his countenance, and it is probable, a tragic scene 
would have been displayed, had not the chiefs requested him 
to use gentle means, and thus he succeeded, after which the 
chiefs withdrew,"* 

E3IBASSIES. 

Charlevoix says, "in their treaties for peace, and general- 
ly, in all their negotiations, they discover a dexterity, and a 
nobleness of sentiments, which would do honor to the most 
polished nations."! A specimen of the mode of negotiating 
peace among the Missouri Indians, which I shall extract 
from Major Long's Journal, will, in a considrable degree, 
sustain the foregoing remark of Charlevoix: it will also con- 
vey an idea of the formalities observed on that occasion, with 
greater accuracy, than any general observations, 

"During the stay of our detached party at the Konza vil- 
lage, several chief men of the nation requested Mr. Dough- 
erty to lead a deputation from them, to their enemies the Ot- 
toes,'Missouris, and Ioways, then dwelling in one village, on 
the Platte. Circumstances then prevented the gratification 
of their wishes, but he gave them to understand, that if the 
deputation should meet our party near Council Bluff, he 
would probably then be authorized to bear them company : 
on which they determined to send a party thither. Accor- 

*Vol. I, page 153. fChartevqii, p. 167. 



346 APPENDIX. 

dingly, on the day preceding the arrival of our steam-boat at 
the position chosen for our winter cantonment, a deputation 
from the Konzas arrived for that purpose. It consisted of 
six men, led by He-roch-che, or the Red War Eagle< one of 
the principal warriors of the Konza nation. 

"Mr. Dougherty having made their pacific mission to Ma- 
jor O'Fallon, the latter expressed to them his cordial appro- 
bation of their intentions, and the following day he despatch- 
ed Mr. Dougherty with them, to protect them by his pres- 
ence, on their approach to the enemy, and to assist them by 
his mediation, in their negotiations, should it be found ne- 
cessary. 

'•The distance to the Oto village is about twenty five miles ; 
on the journey over the prairies, they espied an object at a 
distance, which was mistaken for a man, standing upon an 
eminence. The Indians immediately halted, when Heroch- 
che addressed them, with the assurance that they must put 
their trust in the Master of Life, and in their leaders; and 
observed that, having journeyed thus far on their business, 
they must not return until their purpose was accomplished; 
that if it was their lot to die, no event could save them; 'we 
have set out, my braves,' said he, 'to eat of the Otoes vict- 
uals, and we must do so or die;' the party then proceeded 
onward. The Indians are always very cautious when ap- 
proaching an enemy's village, on any occasion, and this par- 
ty well knew that their enterprize was full of danger. 

"In a short time they were again brought to a halt, by the 
appearance of a considerable number of men and horses, 
that wer advancing towards them. After some consultation 
and reconnoitering, they sat down upon the ground, and light- 
ing the peace pipe, or calumet, Herochche directed the stem 
of it towards the object of their suspicion, saying, 'smoke 
friend, or foe,' he then directed it towards the Oto village, 



APPENDIX. 347 

towards the white people, towards heaven, and the earth 
successively. 

The strangers, however, proved to be drovers, with cattle 
for the troops, on their way to Council Bluff. 

"In consequence of being thus detained, it was late in the 
afternoon when the party arrived at the Platte river, and as 
they had still eighteen miles to travel, and it was indispensa- 
ble to their safety that they should reach the village before 
dark, Mr. Dougherty urged his horse rapidly forwards. The 
Indians, who were all on foot, ran the whole distance, halt- 
ing but twice, in order to cross the Elk Horn and Platte riv- 
ers, although one of them was upwards of sixty years of 
age, and three of the others were much advanced in years. 
"As they drew near the Oto village, they were discover- 
ed by some boys w T ho were collecting their horses together 
for the night, and who, in a telegraphic manner, communica- 
ted intelligence of their approach, to the people of the vil- 
lage, by throwing their robes into the air. 

"The party was soon surrounded by the inhabitants, who 
rushed towards them, riding, and running with the greatest 
impetuosity. The greatest confusion reigned for some time ? 
the Otoes shouting, hallooing and screaming, whilst their 
Konza visiters lamented aloud. Shaumonekusse soon ar- 
rived, and restored a degree of order, when the business of 
the mission being made known in a few words, the Konzas 
were taken up, behind some of the horsemen, and conveyed 
as rapidly as possible, to the lodge of Shongotongo, lest per- 
sonal violence should be offered them on the way. They did 
not, however, escape the audible maledictions of the squaws, 
as they passed, but were stigmatized as wrinkled-faced old 
men, with hairy chins, and ugly faces, and flat noses. 

"After running this species of gauntlet, they were quiet 
ly seated in the lodge, where they were sure of protection. 
A 9quaw, however, whose husband had been recently killed 



348 APPENDIX. 

"by the Konzas, rushed into to the lodge, with the intention 
of seeking vengeance by killing one ot the ambassadors on 
the spot. She stood suddenly before Herochche, and seem- 
ed a very demon of fury. She caught his eye, and at the in- 
stant, with all her strength, she aimed a blow at his breast 
with a large knife, which was firmly grasped in her right 
hand, and which she seemed confident of sheathing in his 
heart. At that truly hopeless moment, the countenance of 
the warrior remained unchanged, and even exhibited no emo- 
tion whatever; and when the knife approached its destination 
with the swiftness of lightning, his eye stood firm, nor were 
its lids seen to quiver; so far from recoiling, or raising his 
arm to avert the blow, that he even rather protuded his breast 
to meet that death which seemed inevitable, and which was 
only averted by the sudden interposition of the arm of one 
of her nation, that received the weapon to the very bone. 

"Thus foiled in her attempt, the squaw was gently led out 
of the lodge, and no one offered her violence, or even harsh 
reproof. No further notice was taken of this transaction by 
either party. 

"Food was then, as usual, placed before the strangers, 
and soon after a warrior entered with a pipe, which he held 
whilst Herochche smoked, saying in a loud voice, 'you tell 
us you wish for peace; T say, I will give you a horse; let us 
see which of us will be the liar, you or V The horse was 
presented to him. 

"The evening, and much of the night, were passed in 
friendly conversation respecting the events of the five years' 
war, which they had waged with each other. 

"On the following morning, the Konzas were called to 
partake of the hospitality of different lodges, whilst the prin- 
cipal men of the village were assembled in council, to delib- 
erate upon the subject of concluding a peace. 

"At noon, the joint and grand council was held in Crenier's 



appendix. 349 

lodge. The Otoes, Missouris, and Ioways took their seats 
around the apartment, with the Konzas in the centre. He- 
rochche, whose business it was first to speak, holding the 
howl of the calumet in his hand, remained immoveable for 
the space of three-fourths of an hour, when he arose, point- 
ed the stem of the calumet towards each of the three nations 
successively, then towards heaven, and the earth, after which 
he stretched out his arm, with the palm of the hand towards 
each of the members in succession. He then proceeded to 
shake each individual by the hand, after which he returned 
to his place, and renewed the motion of the hand as before. 

"Having performed all these introductory formalities, he 
stood firm and erect, though perfectly easy and unconstrain- 
ed, and with a bold expression of countenance, loud voice, 
and emphatical gesticulation, he thus addressed the coun- 
cil:— 

" 'Fathers, brothers, chiefs, warriors, and brave men — 
You are all great men: I am a poor, obscure individual. It 
has, however, become my duty to inform you, that the chiefs 
and warriors of my nation, sometime ago, held a council for 
the purpose of concerting measures to terminate amicably 
the cruel and unwelcome war that has so long existed between 
us, and chosen me, all insignificant as I am, to bring you 
this pipe which I hold in my hand. I have visited your vil- 
lage, that we might all smoke from the same pipe, and eat 
from the same bowl, with the same spoon, in token of our 
future union in friendship. 

u 'On approaching your village, my friends and relatives. 
I thought I had not long to live. I expected that you would 
kill me and these poor men who have followed me. But I 
received encouragement from the reflection, that if it should 
be my lot to die to-day, I would not have to die to-morrow, 
and I relied firmly upon the Master of Life. 

" 'Nor was this anticipation of death unwarranted by 

30 



350 



APPENDIX. 



precedent : you may recollect, that five winters ago, six war- 
riors of my nation came to you, as I have now done, and that 
you killed them all but one, who had the good fortune toes- 
cape. This circumstance was vivid in my memory when I 
yesterday viewed your village in the distance ; said I, those 
warriors who preceded me in the attempt to accomplish this 
desirable ebject, although they were greater and more brave 
than 1, yet they were killed by those whom they came to 
conciliate, and why shall I not share their fate? if so, my 
bones will bleach near theirs. If, on the contrary, I should 
escape death, I will visit the bones of my friends. The ol- 
dest of my followers here, was father-in-law to the chief of 
those slaughtered messengers; he is poor and infirm, and has 
followed us with difficulty; his relatives also are poor, and 
have been long lamenting the loss of the chief you killed. I 
hope you will have pity on him, and give him mockasins 
(meaning a horse) to return home with, for he cannot walk. 
Two or three others of my companions are also in want of 
mockasins for their journey homeward. 

" 'My friends, we wish for peace, and we are tired of war; 
There is a large tract of country intervening between us, 
from which, as it is so constantly traversed by our respec- 
tive hostile parties, we cannot either of us kill the game in 
security, to furnish our traders with peltries. I wish to see 
a large level road over that country, connecting our villages 
together, near which no one can conceal himself in order to 
kill passengers, and that our squaws maybe enabled to visit 
from village to village in safety, and not be urged by fear to 
cast off their packs and betake themselves to the thickets, 
when they see any person on the route. Our nations have 
made peace frequently, but a peace has not been of long du- 
ration. 1 hope, however, that which we shall now establish, 
will continue one day, two days, three days, four days, five 



APPENDIX. 351 

days. My friends! what I have told you is true ; I was not 
sent here to tell you lies. That is all I have to say.' 

"Herochche then lit his pipe, and presented the stem to 
the brother of the Crenier, Wa-sac-a-ru-ja, or he who eats 
raw, who had formerly been his intimate friend. The lat- 
ter held the end of the stem in his hand, whilst he looked He- 
rochche full in the face for a considerable space of time. 
At length, he most emphatically asked, 'is all true that you 
have spoken?' The other, striking himself repeatedly and 
forcibly upon the breast, answered with a loud voice, 'Yes, 
it is all truth that I have spoken.' Wasacaruja, without any 
further hesitation, accepted the proffered pipe, and smoked, 
whilst Herochche courteously held the bowl of it in his hand ; 
the latter warrior then held it in succession to each member 
of council, who respectively took a whiff or two, after which 
the pipe itself was presented to Wasacaruja, to retain. 

'•It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the ener- 
gy and propriety with which this speech was delivered, or 
of the dignity and self-possession of the speaker. Before he 
commenced, he hesitated, and looked around upon his ene- 
mies, probably in order to trace in the lineaments of their 
countenances, the expressions of their feelings towards him. 
He then began his address, by raising his voice at once to its 
full intonation, producing a truly powerful effect upon the 
ear, by a contrast with the deep and long continued silence 
which preceded it. He was at no loss for subject or for words? 
but proceeded right onwards to the close of his speech, like 
a full-flowing, impetuous stream. 

"Wasacaruja, in consequence of having first accepted of 
the calumet, was now regarded as responsible for the sincer- 
ity of his friend Herochche. He therefore arose, and thus 
addressed the ambassador: — 'My friend! I am glad to see 
you on such an occasion as the present, and to hear that 
your voice is for peace. A few winters ago, when we were 



352 APPENDIX. 

in friendship with each other, I visited your village, and you 
gave me all your people, saying that all the Konzas were 
mine. But it was not long afterwards, as we hunted near 
your country, that you stole our horses, and killed some of 
our people, and I cannot but believe that the same course 
will be again pursued. Nevertheless, I shall again repair to 
the same place of which I have spoken, this autumn, for the 
purpose of hunting, and in the spring I will again visit your 
town. You observed that you were apprehensive of being 
killed as you approached our village, and you most probably 
would have been so, coming as you did, late in the evening, 
and without the usual formality of sending a messenger to 
apprize us of your approach, had you not been accompanied 
by the Big Knife, with whom you are so well acquainted. 
But we have now smoked together, and I hope that the peace 
thus established may long continue. You say that you are 
in want of mockasins; we will endeavor to give you one or 
two for your journey home. That is all I have to say.' 

"Herochche then apologized for his unceremonious en- 
trance into the village, by saying, that he knew it was cus- 
tomary to send forward a runner, on such an occasion, and 
he should have done so, but his friend the Big Knife, whom 
he had previously consulted with that view, told him that he 
had full confidence in the magnanimity of the Otoes. 

"Thus the ceremony was concluded, and peace restored 
between the two natians. r * 

WAR EXPEDITIONS. 

In this number we shall give a few striking instances of 
the dexterity and address, as well as the devoted courage, 
which frequently distinguish their conduct in war. 

"In the year 1763, Detroit, containing a British garrison 
of three hundred men, commanded by Major Gladwyn, was 

•Long's Journal, vol. 1, p. 310. 



APPENDIX. 



353 



besieged by a confederacy of Indian tribes under Pontiac, 
an Ottoway chief, who displayed such a boldness in his de- 
signs, such skill in negotiation, and such personal courage in 
war, as to justify us in considering him one of the greatest 
men who have ever appeared among the Indian tribes of 
North America. He was the decided and constant enemy of 
the British Government, and excelled all his contempora- 
ries in both mental and bodily vigor. His conspiracy for 
making himself master of the town of Detroit, and destroy- 
ing the garrison, although frustrated, is a master-piece a- 
mong Indian stratagems; and his victory over the British 
troops at the battle of Bloody Bridge, stands unparalleled in 
the history of Indian wars, for the decision and steady cour- 
age by which it was, in an open fight, achieved. 

"As, at the time above mentioned, every appearance of 
war was at an end, and the Indians seemed to be on a friend- 
ly footing, Pontiac approached Detroit, without exciting any 
suspicions in the breast of the Governor, or the inhabitants. 
He encamped at a little distance from it, and let the com- 
mandant know that he was come to trade; and being desi- 
rous of brightening the chain of peace between the English 
and his nation, desired that he and his chiefs might be ad- 
mitted to hold a council with him. The Governor, still un- 
suspicious, and not in the least doubting the sincerity of the 
Indian, granted their GeneraFs request, and fixed on the next 
morning for their reception. 

; <On the evening of that day, an Indian woman who had 
been appointed by Major Gladwyn to make a pair of Indian 
shoes, out of a curious elkskin, brought them home. The 
Major was so pleased with them, that, intending these as a 
present for a friend, he ordered her to take the remainder 
back, and make it into others for himself. He then direct- 
ed his servant to pay r er for those she had done, and dismis- 
sed her. The woman went to the door that led to the street, 

30* 



t454 APPENDIX. 

but no further; she there loitered about as if she had not fitf- 
ished the business on which she came. A servant at length 
observed her, and asked her why she staid there? she gave 
him, however, no answer. 

"Some short time after, the Governor himself saw her, 
ar.d enquired of his servant what occasioned her stay. Not 
being able to get a satisfactory answer, he ordered the wo- 
man to be called in. When she came into his presence, he 
desired to know what was the reason of her loitering about? 
and not hastening home before the gates were shut, that she 
might complete in due time the work he had given her todo. 
She told him, after much hesitation, that as he had always 
behaved with great goodness towards her, she was unwilling 
to take away the remainder of the skin, because he put so 
great a value upon it; and yet had not been able to prevail 
upon herself to tell him so. He then asked her why she was 
more reluctant to do so now than she had been when she 
made the former pair. With increased reluctance she an- 
sweredj that she should never be able to bring them back. 
"His curiosity being now excited, he insisted on her dis- 
closing the secret that seemed to be struggling in her bosom 
for utterance. At last, on receiving a promise that the intel- 
ligence she was about to give him should not turn to her pre- 
judice, and that if it appeared to be beneficial she should be 
rewarded for it, she informed him, that at the council to be 
held with the Indians the following day, Pontiac and his 
chiefs intended to murder him; and, after having massacred 
the garrison and inhabitants, to plunder the town. That for 
this purpose, all the chiefs who were to be admitted into the 
council room had cut their guns short, so that they could 
conceal them under their blankets; with which, on a signal 
gived by their general, on delivering the belt, they were all to 
rise up, and instantly to fire on him and his attendants. Hav- 
ing effected this, they were immediately to rush into the 



APPENDIX. 356 

town, where they would find themselves supported by a great 
number of their warriors, that were to come into it during 
the sitting of the council under the pretence of trading, but 
privately armed in the same manner. Having gained from 
the woman every necessary particular relative to the plot, 
and also the means by which she acquired a knowledge of 
them, he dismissed her with injunctions of secrecy, and a 
promise of fulfilling on his part with punctuality the engage- 
ments he had entered into. 

"The intelligence the Governor had just received gave 
him great uneasiness: and he immediately consulted the offi- 
cer who was next him in command on the subject. But this 
gentleman, considering the information as a story invented 
for some artful purpose, advised him to pay no attention to 
it. This conclusion, however, had happily, no weight with 
him. He thought it prudent to conclude it to be true, till he 
was convinced that it was not so; and therefore, without re- 
vealing his suspicions to any other person, he took every 
needful precaution that the time would admit of. He walked 
around the fort the whole night, and saw himself, that eve- 
ry sentinel was upon duty, and every weapon of defence in 
proper order. 

"As he traversed the ramparts that lay nearest to the In- 
dian camp, he heard them in high festivity, and little ima- 
gining that their plot was discovered, probably pleasing 
themselves with the anticipation of their success. As soon 
as the morning dawned, he ordered all the garrison under 
arms, and then imparting his apprehension to a few of the 
principal officers, gave them such directions as he thought 
necessary. At the same time he sent round to all the tra- 
ders,-to inform them, that as it w r as expected a great number 
of Indians would enter the town that day, who might be in- 
clined to plunder, he desired they would have their arms rea- 
a > and repel any attempt of that kind. 



356 APPEWD1X, 

"About ten o'clock, Pontiac and his chiefs arrived, and 
were conducted to the council chamber, where the governor 
and his principal officers, each with pistols in his belt, await- 
ed his arrival. As the Indians passed on, they could not 
help observing that a greater number of troops than usual 
were drawn up on the parade, or marching about. No soon- 
er were they entered and seated on the skins prepared for 
them, than Pontiac asked the Governor, on what occasion 
his young men, meaning the soldiers, were thus drawn up and 
parading the streets? He received for answer, that it was 
only intended to keep them perfect in their exercise. 

"The Indian chief-warrior now began his speech which 
contained the strongest professions of friendship and good 
will, towards the English: and when he came to the delive- 
ry of the belt of wampum, the particular mode of which, 
according to the woman's information, was to be the signal 
for the chiefs to fire, the governor and all his attendants drew 
their swords half way out of their scabbards; and the sol- 
diers at the same instant made a clattering with their arms 
before the doors, which had been purposely left open. Pon- 
tiac, though one of the bravest of men, immediately turned 
pale and trembled ; and instead of giving the belt in the man- 
ner proposed, delivered it according to the usual way. HU 
chiefs, who had impatiently expected the signal, looked at 
each other with astonishment, but continued quiet, waiting 
the result. 

"The governor, in his turn, made a speech. but instead of 
thanking the great warrior for the professions of friendship 
he had just uttered, he accused him of being a traitor. He 
told him that the English, who knew every thing, were con- 
vinced of his treachery and villainous designs; and as a proof 
that they were acquainted with his most secret thoughts and 
intentions, he stepped towards an Indian chief that sat near- 
est to him, and drawing aside the blanket, discovered the 



APPENDIX. 357 

shortened firelock. This entirely disconcerted the Indians, 
and frustrated their design. 

"He then continued to tell them, that as he had given his 
word at the time they desired an audience, that their persons 
should be safe, he would hold his promise inviolable, though 
they so little deserved it. However, he desired them to make 
the best of their way out of the fort, lest his young men, on 
being acquainted with their treacherous purposes,, should 
cut every one of them to pieces. 

"Pontiac endeavored to contradict the accusation, and to 
make excuses for his suspicious conduct; but the governor, 
satisfied of the falsity of his protestations, would not listen 
to him. The Indians immediately left the fort; but in- 
stead of being sensible of the governor's generous behavior, 
they threw off the mask, and the next day made a regular, 
attack upon it." 

Major Gladwyn has not escaped censure for this mistaken 
lenity : for probably had he kept a few of the principal chiefs 
prisoners, whilst he had them in his power, he might have 
been able to have brought the whole confederacy to terms, 
and prevented a war. But he atoned for his oversight, by 
the gallant defence he made for more than a year, amidst a 
variety of discouragements. 

"During that period some very smart skirmishes happened 
between the besiegers and garrison, of which the following 
was the principal and most bloody. Capt. Delzel, a brave 
officer, prevailed on the governor to give hmi the command 
of about two hundred men, and to permit him to attack the 
enemy's camp. This being complied with, he sallied from 
the town before daybreak; but Pontiac,. receiving from some 
of his swift-footed warriors,, who were constantly employed 
in watching the motions of the garrison,, timely intelligence 
of their design, collected the choicest of his troops, and met. 
the detachment at some distance from his camp? near a place 



358 APPENDIX. 

since called Bloody-bridge. As the Indians weTe vcstfy su- 
perior in number, to Capt. Delzel's party, he was soon over- 
powered and driven back. Being now nearly surrounded, 
he made a vigorous effort to regain the bridge he had just 
crossed, by which alone he could find a retreat : but in doing 
this he lost his life, and many of his men fell with him. 
However, Major Rogers, the second in command, assisted 
by Lieutenant Braham, found means to draw off the shatter- 
ed remains of their little army, and conducted them into the 
fe-rt. 

"Then considerably reduced, it was with difficulty the Maj . 
could defend the town notwithstanding which, he held out a- 
gainst the Indians till he was relieved ; as after this they 
made but few attacks upon the place, and only continued to 
blockade it. 

"The Gladwyn schooner arrived about this time near the 
towr^ with a reinforcement and necessary supplies. But be- 
fore this vessel could reach the place of its destination, it 
was most vigorously attacked by a detachment from Ponti- 
ac's army. The Indians surrounded it in their canoes, and 
made great havoc among the crew. 

"At length, the captain of the schooner, with a considerable 
number of his crew being killed, and the savages beginning 
to climb up the sides from every quarter, the Lieutenant be- 
ing determined that the stores should not fall into the ene- 
my's hands, and seeing no alternative, ordered the gunner to 
set fire to the powder room and blow the ship up. This or 
der was on the point of being executed, when a chief of the 
Huron's who understood the English language, gave out to 
his friends the intention of the commander. On receiving 
this intelligence, the Indians hurried down the sides of the 
ship with the greatest precipitation, and got as far from it as 
possible ; while the commander immediately took advantage 



APPETCDIX. 359 

of their consternation, and arrived without any further ob- 
struction at the town. 

"This seasonable supply gave the garrison fresh spirits : 
and Pontiac, being now convinced that it would not be in 
his power to reduce the place, proposed an accommodation. 
The governor, wishing much to get rid of such troublesome 
enemies, listened to his proposals, and having procured ad- 
vantageous terms, agreed to a peace."* 

The massacre of the garrison of Michilimackinac, which 
occurred also in the year of 1763, while it exhibits one of 
the most shocking instances of Indian barbarity, it is at the 
same time a striking proof of the sagacity and dissimulation 
of the Indian character. It appears from the very interes- 
ing account given of this transaction by Henry, who was an 
eye witness, "That the Indians were in the habit of play- 
ing at a game called Bag-gat-iway, which is played with a 
ball and a bat on the principles of our foot ball, and decided 
by one of the party's heaving the ball beyond the goal of 
of their adversaries. The King^s birth day, the 4th of June, 
having arrived, the Sacs and Chippeways who were encamp- 
ed in great numbers around the fort, turned out upon the 
green, to play at this game for a high wager, and attracted a 
number of the garrison and traders to witness the sport. 
The game of bag-gat i way is necessarily attended with 
much violence and noise. In the ardor of contest, the ball, 
if it cannot be thrown to the goal desired, is struck in any di- 
rection by which it can be diverted from that designed by 
the adversary. At such a moment, therefore, nothing could 
be less liable to excite premature alarm, than that the ball 
should be tossed over the pickets of the fort, nor, that having 
alien there, it should be followed on the instant by all engag- 
ed in the game, as well the one party as the other, all ea- 

*I have extracted this narrative of Pontiac's attempt on Detroit, from Mr. 
Schoolcraft, who takes it from Carver's Travels. 



360 APPENDIX. 

ger — all struggling — all shouting, in the unrestrained pur- 
suit of a rude athletic exercise : nothing therefore could be 
more happily devised, under the circumstances, than a strat- 
agem like this; and it was in fact the stratagem which the 
Indians employed to obtain possession of the fort, and by 
which they were enabled to slaughter and subdue its 'gar- 
rison, and such of the other inhabitants as they pleased. To 
be still more certain of success, they had prevailed on as 
many as they could, by a pretext the least liable to suspi- 
cion, to come voluntarily without the pickets; and particu- 
larly the commandant and garrison themselves. The Indi- 
ans after butchering the garrison burnt down the Fort."' 

THE KVD. 



